Aftermath
by Bigbadbandicoot
Summary: Set after 'Into Darkness', but before the 5-year mission. Jim questions his ability to return as captain and doubts the brass wants him to. He's okay, and he can handle this alone, thank you very much. This is my first ST fanfic, so please forgive any discrepancies. I'm a romance novelist, not a fanfic writer, man! Actually, I guess I'm both now.
1. Chapter 1

_I'm okay._

Bracing his hands against the shower wall, Jim Kirk inhaled steam and let it out in a shaky sigh. When he opened his eyes, he focused intently on his hands against the pristine white tile. They were lined with minute scars, nothing anyone would think about twice. Nothing that suggested he'd given his life for the _Enterprise_ and her crew. His friends.

_Ten fingers, ten toes. Arms, legs, head. All intact._

A little worse for the wear maybe, but all there. One of these days he'd stop counting them every time he woke up.

_You've survived worse._

That was the mantra he'd always lived by. Up until a few weeks ago, it had always held true. He drew in another shuddering breath. Over the sound of shower spray, his heart beat steadily, causing the rush of blood to pound between his ears. The more he listened, the more he started to loose it. A dream. It was a stupid dream. One where he hadn't entered the warp core and they'd plummeted to the earth like a carelessly tossed toy. Except he hadn't died and he'd emerged from the wreck to see his friends broken. He'd jolted awake, a shout on the tip of his tongue. The nightmares were infrequent, but still jarring.

Yesterday he'd taken his first good look at San Francisco since the incident-since _Khan_-and although he hadn't admitted it, he'd been shaken by the destruction. No doubt those broken buildings and the empty skyline were the cause of his nightmare. He was almost glad the _Enterprise_ was at the space station. Seeing her might be too much right now. He couldn't shake the ache in his heart or the nausea turning in his gut. Jim leaned back and let the water hit his face, washing away the hot tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He hated feeling helpless.

_I was a Star Fleet captain. Wouldn't the brass laugh now if they could see my pity party in the shower? Maybe I don't deserve control of the _Enterprise_._

"Jim?"

He held his breath, afraid he might have made a sound that alerted Bones he wasn't his usual cock-of-the-walk self. All this acting was wearing. The bathroom door was closed and in any other apartment in any other city, that meant _Keep Out._ But because he was James T. Kirk, recently returned to the land of the living, and Bones was Leonard I-will-use-this-hypo-so-help-me McCoy, it meant Jim's pity party was a bust. The door hit the opposite wall with a bang that made Jim jump.

"Can't a man get five minutes of privacy around here?" he groused, grateful his voice sounded normal.

"Dammit, man, try _forty_-five minutes. I thought you'd drowned." Bones's voice echoed sharply in the tiny bathroom.

Jim turned his palms face up and stared at the wrinkled pads of his fingers. He absorbed the words as he shut off the shower. Shit, he hadn't planned to take so long. Bones got suspicious any time he lingered over his uneaten dinner, took a nap, or stared into thin air. The doctor was clearly waiting for him to crack up. A towel flew over the curtain rod. He caught it just before it hit the wet shower floor.

"How many people do you know who've ever drowned in a shower?" The idea had some merit considering he'd rather do that than face the admiral panel in charge of his fate and the destination of the _Enterprise_.

The formal hearing on the incident-_Admiral Marcus's deception_-had happened last week. Thanks to the admiral's broadcast to the ship, Jim and the crew were cleared of any wrong-doing. Except that little blemish on his record showing he'd deliberately pursued a war criminal into Klingon territory. In the past he'd have brushed it off, drank it away, closed it off from his thoughts by entertaining himself with another pretty girl or two. None of those things appealed to him now.

_That's three strikes._ He was sure the _Kobayashi Maru_ incident was still there to haunt him, right along with Nibiru. This time he didn't have Admiral Pike watching his back. The thought made him grimace.

"You're gonna be late to your own horse and pony show. You know the brass hates that," Bones said. "And maybe I would have liked a shower this morning. There's enough fog in here to hide the Golden Gate Bridge."

Jim wrapped the towel around his waist, then drew the curtain back. He ignored Bones's assessing look.

"Sorry." He wiped condensation off the mirror with his hand, eliciting an annoyed grunt from his friend.

_Note to self: Clean bathroom mirror later per roommate agreement clause III, paragraph 2, subsection a, aka Bones Hates Any Messes._

His blurry reflection stared back at him. Like his hands, a few faint scars decorated his face. Old, new, they didn't matter. One more adventure he survived. It seemed like someone who'd been to the other side of the Great Beyond should look older, or wiser, but he looked the same as the photo that appeared beside the article on the PADD in his room. The photographer had taken it the day of the hearing.

_James T. Kirk: Victim or Villain?_

He braced his arms against the sink. A glob of blue toothpaste stood out against the white porcelain. He scratched at it with his fingernail, setting off the faucet motion sensor. Damn thing never worked when he actually _wanted_ to wash his hands. Water gushed from the spout, swirling down the drain. Just like his life.

"Jim?"

"Seriously? Bathroom. Privacy. A closed door. Sensing a theme here?"

It wasn't Bones' fault he was cranky. His apartment near campus had been destroyed when the _Vengeance_ went down. Rooming with Bones was a logical choice. He knew his friends didn't worry about him so much with McCoy breathing down his neck.

Bones frowned. "Are you feeling all right? Because you can skip this meeting. In fact, as your doctor I can make up a pretty good excuse."

Jim straightened his back. "No. This is important. This is important."

One step at a time. Get out of the hospital. Move in with Bones. He hadn't even left the apartment in weeks. Not until yesterday. He was getting a little stir crazy, but nothing was holding him back except himself. And this meeting with the admirals. He pictured them sitting around a table. _Do we give Kirk the ship, or do we send him back to the academy like we should have done in the first place?_

Bones shook his head. "I really think-"

Jim met his eyes in the mirror. "Maybe it's time to think about finding a place of my own."

"Look, Jim-"

"No, you look." He turned away from the mirror. He held his arms up. "I'm okay."

Sort of. Physically, yes, he was fine. Better than ever.

_Khan stared passively. "I'm better."_

"_At what?" Jim asked._

"_Everything."_

Emotionally...It didn't matter. He'd learned to hide his emotions a long time ago. If he could get some breathing room, he could probably work his troubles out alone.

"I know that. I know better than anyone." Bones glared. "We can talk about this after the hearing, all right?"

Jim nodded, but he wasn't reassured.

Star Fleet captains were supposed to maintain a cool countenance. Jim had often touted the _I don't believe in no-win situations_ attitude throughout his career as a student and a captain. He couldn't muster a single ounce of it as he looked up at temporary Star Fleet headquarters.

He wiped his sleeve across his brow and swallowed the panic that threatened to consume him.

"_I have no idea what I'm supposed to do! I only know what I _can_ do!"_

He wasn't sure about this. Twenty minutes remained until he had to appear before the admirals. Overhead, the sky was cloudy, a deep dark gray that threatened rain. It matched Jim's mood. He tugged at the collar of his uniform, feeling choked by the stiff material. If he didn't go inside, they'd never return the ship to his command. If he did, they might not anyway. Was it really worth the trouble?

At least this hearing was private. For weeks after the _Vengeance_ disaster, reporters had hounded him, trying to get statements and learn every little detail. Fortunately, no one seemed to recognize him, or care that he stood out here, trying to build up the nerve to go inside. Just another Star Fleet officer going about Star Fleet business today. Maybe going home a civilian, or worse, a cadet.

"Captain, are you well?"

Spock stepped into his peripheral vision.

Startled, he took a step back. "I-yeah. What are you doing here?"

Uhura grasped Spock's arm. She clutched a brown paper bag stamped with a familiar donut shop's logo. "Hi, Captain. We were out for a morning stroll. What a coincidence, running into you."

"Coincidence?"

They both knew Spock didn't believe in them.

She smiled in response.

"As we're here, it can't hurt to remind you that your meeting is in exactly 17.7 minutes, Captain. Perhaps an early arrival would impress the admirals," Spock suggested.

Jim could think of several things he could do with 17.7 minutes to go. Most of them including going the opposite direction of the building.

"Yeah, I know." He shook his head. "Wait a minute. Shouldn't you two be working?"

They were both dressed casually. Uhura wore skinny jeans and a dark purple top made from shiny material. Spock had chosen slacks and a blue shirt. They wore light coats to protect against the morning chill. No Star Fleet paraphernalia in sight.

Spock glanced at Uhura. "I suggested the same thing, however-"

Uhura pinched his arm and glared, then turned a forced smile on Jim. "It's our day off."

The false cheer in her voice made his stomach clench. Surely they hadn't come to wait for the verdict. They'd find out soon enough if they were going to be reassigned, or if the _Enterprise's_ crew was coming together again.

"Oh, look. Eet's the keptin, Mr. Spock, and Lieutenant Uhura."

Jim turned when he heard Chekov's voice. The young ensign waved enthusiastically. He carried a cup holder with five paper cups jammed into it. Sulu walked beside him, one hand in the pocket of his leather jacket, the other clutching another cup holder. They both smiled. He felt sure he was the only one surprised by their appearance.

"What's going on?" Jim asked, looking between Sulu and Chekov.

"Vell, ve thought to get ko-fee-"

"No." He held up his hand and used his captain's voice. "What are all of you doing _here_?"

"It seems like it's just a few friends accidentally meeting in the same location. It's been known to happen, hasn't it, Spock?" Uhura looked up at him.

"The chances of five people who call themselves friends meeting up at a random location is-"

"Six." Bones approached on Jim's other side. He didn't look happy. "But I'm sure Spock's got the odds figured out for that number too."

"How fast do ye think he can figure odds on eight?"

Scotty grinned, lifting a disposable coffee cup in an imaginary toast. Beside him, Carol Marcus beamed at the others, her smile bright enough to cast light on the cloudy sky.

"Captain Kirk. It's so good to see you."

Except for the moment he'd stared at her toned body while she changed clothing on his ship, he'd never seen her dressed so casually. A light sweater dress hugged her curves and gold stockings covered her legs, tucked into short boots. Carol looked as though she'd always belonged with his crew. He wondered if their time working together on the ship would be a one-off.

"Coffee. Great idea. I might have brought enough donuts for all of us too. A happy accident," Uhura said, shaking the bag.

Jim wasn't really listening. His breath caught. He studied them one by one, these faces he was so accustomed to serving with on the _Enterprise_. They might have been out for brunch instead of a meeting that might separate them from working together for good.

Unbelievable. "Who told you guys about this? It was supposed to be hush-hush."

Bones looked away, innocently nibbling a cheese danish.

"Been reading my messages, roomie?" For a brief second, Jim smiled.

Spock glanced at the building. "It is 9.4 minutes until the admirals wish to see you, Captain. I truly believe it's in your best interests to go inside."

Jim swallowed. "You'll all be here when I get back?"

They agreed, smiling and nodding. Scotty gave him a thumbs-up.

"Save me a bear claw."

_I'm okay._ He repositioned his hat and mounted the steps to the glass front doors. _No matter what the admirals decide, I've survived worse than this._

From his mother's long absences, his fights with his step-father, his escape from Tarsus, his battle with Nero, and Pike's death. The ultimate betrayal of one of Star Fleet's top admirals and the hard work to regain his health were all memories. He felt his crew's eyes on him as he opened the door. Jim's footsteps echoed in the sterile white hallway as he made his way to the meeting room.

Fresh sweat broke out across his body.

_Could be worse. They might have convened a full panel instead of four admirals. I've survived worse than this._

He had his disgruntled roommate, his pointy-eared friend, and tough-as-nails lieutenant to thank for that. Whatever happened, he knew his crew-his _family_-had his back.

The meeting room door stood ajar and four admirals wearing uniforms decorated with the Star Fleet logo and assortments of medals talked quietly among themselves.

Jim knocked on the doorfame and removed his hat. Four sets of eyes turned toward him.

"Captain Kirk. How are you?"

Suddenly, his nervousness fled. Seven good men and women waited for him outside the building.

Jim smiled. "I'm okay."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Don't own 'em. Pity, that. I feel kind of mean, in the way you can only feel mean by emotionally beating a character. Physical beatings, nah, that's cool. They recover quick enough from that. This chapter isn't as in depth as the first, but hopefully that won't throw you off.

* * *

_I'm better than okay._

Ice cold beer in one hand and absently cracking peanuts shells with the other, Jim Kirk watched Carol Marcus dance with Chekov. Her tight blue dress made her eyes luminous. Little clips in her hair sparkled like stars under the neon lights and the upbeat cadence of the music made her face flush. Chekov looked like he was having the time of his life and Jim couldn't blame him.

"You really like her, don't you?" Bones yelled over the screech of an electric guitar.

Jim took a swig of beer to delay his answer. Depending on how many drinks Bones had consumed, he could expect a lecture on all the ways a woman would ruin his life, or a simple look of disgust. He was hoping for the latter.

"What? No. I mean, no more than the rest of the crew."

His crew. Only hours earlier, the admiralty had reinstated him as captain of the _Enterprise_. He was still absorbing the good news. It felt like someone had relieved a giant pressure off his chest. He'd been taking little steps toward getting back to life and another one had paid off. Minus a few warnings and the stern rebuke about how he'd better watch himself in the future, today really hadn't been so terrible.

When Uhura and Carol decided they all needed to celebrate at a new bar called Gravitate, no amount of protest dissuaded them. Even Spock sat on Jim's opposite side, although he'd been nursing the same drink for two hours. His eyes hadn't left Uhura, who kept casting him come-hither looks and dancing with various strangers. On the whole, it was pretty amusing. The faintest ticks of agitation made Spock's mouth twitch when Uhura switched partners.

Bones set his drink down on the table with a thump. "No, I think you _really_ like her. You haven't made a single move to get her in bed. And I know it's not because you give a damn about sharing an apartment with me."

It would've been easy to bring a woman back to the apartment. With Bones gone all hours of the day at the hospital, it was empty enough. Jim ran his finger around the lip of his beer bottle. He had a lot to work out before he got involved with anyone. "Nah. I'm not looking for a relationship right now. Maybe," he cut his eyes to Carol, "you should ask her out."

"Are you out of your starship-deprived mind?" Bones sputtered.

Jim tossed a peanut into the air and caught it in his mouth. Sitting in a bar with his closest friends felt right. Teasing Bones and learning that Spock became jealous when other men looked at his girlfriend.

"Jury's still out. When was the last time you went on a date? A real date, not a quick make-out session in the med bay?"

Bones scowled. "I think you're getting us mixed up. I'm not the one who lures willing females into every nook and cranny on the ship."

The statement drew a sharp look from Spock and Jim rose. Better to walk away before Spock got started. "I think I'll refresh my beer. You guys want anything?"

Bones eyed the half-full bottle suspiciously. "How many does that make?"

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, like you haven't been keeping an eye on me since we got here. That's three. The two double whiskeys when we got here and half a beer. It's going to take a lot more than that to even make me feel-" He didn't feel anything. Not even the start of a buzz. He might've been drinking water for all the effect the alcohol had.

Weeks after the serum Bones had created from Khan's blood, he still wasn't sure what kind of long-term effects it might have. When it came to neutralizing alcohol, it seemed to be a two way street. On one hand—cool. He could drink nearly anyone under the table. On the other—it could mean his tabs would go way up. Some memories just needed to be wiped away by liquor. There were moments when he resented the platelets floating around in his bloodstream.

"Jim, perhaps McCoy is right. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention to your whereabouts. Not when we've spent a considerable amount of time shielding you from media outlets."

Spock actually looked concerned, which made Jim grind his teeth.

"I think I can walk over to the bar without causing a scene, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

Bones and Spock exchanged a look.

"You two are a couple of killjoys." He threw his hands up in the air and left the table. The mother hen act was getting old.

So nobody could predict what was really happening to his body. He felt great, especially compared to this morning. Jim approached the bar and slid onto a bar stool. He signaled the bartender for another double shot of whiskey.

Glancing over his shoulder, he waved at Bones, who rolled his eyes before hunching over his drink again. In the past, this would have been his kind of scene. Scantily clad women, plenty of drinks, loud music. While he felt great, he had to admit he wasn't really in the mood for this place.

_Growing up, Jim?_

He turned his head, certain he'd heard Christopher Pike at his elbow. Instead it was a hulking baboon of a man, big sloping forehead, ham-sized fists, and bleary eyes.

"What're you lookin' at?" the baboon growled.

Jim smirked. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know."

Diplomacy wasn't really his strong suit.

The man glowered. "Hey, I know you."

"I have one of those faces." He nodded his thanks to the barkeeper when the tumbler slid across the bar top. "I've been told it's ruggedly handsome."

"You're that Kirk guy. The one who lured that maniac Khan here."

One big, gnarled finger poked Jim in the chest. Whiskey sloshed out of his glass and down his shirt. As the stain spread across the cotton, the music stopped, the lights brightened, and every eye in the bar turned toward him.

At least it seemed that way. The irritating thump, thump, thump of music droned on, but the lights did seem brighter. Jim gritted his teeth and set the tumbler on the bar.

"You got the wrong guy, pal. And you owe me a drink."

Breathe, he reminded himself. One slack-jawed yokel who didn't know a damned thing about Starfleet or war or saving the entire goddamned Federation wasn't worth ruining the evening.

"Your picture is all over the media. My sister's kid was in school when that bastard crashed into San Francisco. He was trapped beneath rubble for hours. He almost died because of you."

One of those ham fists curled around Jim's arm. Guy had a grip like the vices they used to secure the ship to the space dock. Jim risked a glance at Bones and Spock. Thank God neither of them were looking his way.

"Look, man, I'm sorry about your nephew. I'm glad he's okay. It wasn't exactly my best day either. Let me go and I'll forget the drink." He felt a sharp pang when he thought about children trapped under a school where kids were supposed to be safe. That was no memory to hang on to, and no kid should ever suffer that kind of fear, but in the end hadn't everything turned out all right?

Baboon didn't let go. "You pretty boys fly around in space all day and get innocent people involved in your intergalactic wars. Why don't you leave us out of it?"

_You think I _wanted_ to bring this fight to Earth? You think I didn't do _everything_ in my power to stop it? I_t was gut wrenching to know in the great scheme of things, he didn't have any more power than the next man.

Cool rage rolled over Jim, so icy it was hot. "I think you're drunk and I think you want to let me go."

"Or what?" Baboon leaned closer, his face inches away.

"You won't even have to leave the building to see stars, because I'm going to hit you so hard-"

The haymaker came out of nowhere, although he should've been expecting it. He was down, but not out. Oh, hell, no. He still had his legs beneath him and as long as that was true, he'd never back down.

"It is _not_ my fault," he growled.

Dimly, he heard his name, but he was already mid-swing and it wasn't Baboon's face that took on the surprised and sort of flattened look that accompanied a beating. It was Khan, taking the blows he deserved, suffering for the suffering he'd inflicted-because Jim didn't care about Khan's crew, didn't care about anything Admiral Marcus had promised, cajoled, or coerced Khan into doing. It was the retribution he hadn't gotten when they'd tracked Khan to Qo'noS. It was...

"Goddammit, Jim, do you want to undo everything you accomplished today?"

His hand, covered in blood and a variety of scrapes, paused mid-blow right in front of Baboon's nose. The grimace on Baboon's face would've been comical, if Jim hadn't realized the buzz of anger in his ears was the only sound in the bar. This time the music and chatter really had stopped.

Everyone was looking at him with varying levels of horror and disgust. He uncurled his hand from Baboon's shirtfront and backed away.

His eye throbbed from the one solid punch Baboon had landed. It was already swelling shut. At least he wasn't bleeding on the outside.

_I'm okay._

Uhura recovered from her shock before anyone else and grabbed his wrist. "_Let's go._"

It might've been a simpler escape if it had been two, or even three people fleeing the bar. Eight was a little more conspicuous. They bumped and jostled their way through the drunks on the streets and settled for an empty alley. Jim retracted his wrist from Uhura's hand.

"I don't need a damned escort."

"You didn't need anyone to walk you to the bar either, idiot," Bones reminded him.

And here came the tricorder, buzzing around his head like a bee. Not that it actually made any noise, but that didn't make it any less annoying. It wasn't the tricorder's fault. It was the doctor attached to the other end.

"Get that thing out of my face, or I'll throw it in the street," Jim vowed.

Spock stepped between them. "You eye is a vibrant shade of red, Jim. Dr. McCoy is merely attempting to help in a useful manner."

"What happened in there?" Carol nudged Spock out of the way. Her cool hand grazed his cheekbone and the real concern on her face made him feel ashamed.

"The other guy started it." Yeah, that sounded mature, coming from his mouth. He did _not_ want to talk about it. "I even apologized first, but he was drunk and it escalated from there."

"You're not drunk. Not even a little bit," Bones said, looking up, eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. "Your adrenaline is off the charts though."

"You guys should go home. I think I've had about all the fun I can stand for one night. And Nurse Ratchet here probably wouldn't go for more anyway." Jim forced himself to meet the eyes of his friends. His gaze lingered on Carol. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

The goodbyes were a lot more solemn than the greetings had been. When only Bones, Jim, Spock and Uhura remained, street noise filled the alley.

Uhura stretched on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Spock's lips. "Take care of the captain."

Jim winced, because the look she gave him clearly read, _Get this shit worked out, Captain._

He deserved it, because he was keeping her boyfriend away.

"You're damned lucky nobody called the police, kid," Bones grumbled. "Now how did you go from getting a drink to getting your brains knocked through your ears by Sasquatch?"

So he explained the exchange, word for word,watching emotion shift in Spock's eyes and sheer agitation overtake Bones's face. And he wasn't any calmer after he got it off his chest. The mean words echoed in his head. _I know I walked into Marcus's trap, but dammit, I'm human._

"I'm not sorry for hitting him, but maybe I shouldn't have hit him so much." Jim gingerly rubbed his sore knuckles. "That wasn't a good day for anyone."

Complete silence met his statement. He kind of wanted to crawl back to the _Enterprise_ and quietly take up permanent residence. The number of people he wanted to punch there was minimal.

Bones finally tucked his tricorder away. "I hope you feel better since you turned that guy's face into hamburger and scared the hell out of the rest of us."

"Not very captain-y of me, was it? Sometimes I just feel so..." He balled his hands into fists. "Life's not fair. That's fine, but why is it my fault that overgrown baboon's nephew got trapped in his school? I'm not the one who let Khan loose. I'm just the poor bastard who cleaned up the mess."

Admittedly, after making a bigger one.

"Let's go home. You need ice. Sooner rather than later." Bones laid his hand on Jim's shoulder. "I should have known this would be more than a simple night out. Nothing's easy with you, kid."

* * *

Hours later, Bones collected half a dozen empty beer bottles. He probably should've vetoed Jim's insistence that they stop at the liquor store on the way, but something in his friend's eyes told him not to. Jim snored on the couch, an ice pack sweating as it melted over his face. Spock sat stiffly in one of the chairs, seemingly staring off into space. Except Bones knew all too well the cogs and cranks were spinning inside the Vulcan's head.

"Something on your mind?"

"Jim's behavior, in fact. He's acting unusual."

Bones shot him a look he reserved for the dumbest of the dumb. "Tell me something I don't know. His vitals are fine, even though he's been off his feed the last couple of days." He paused. "It ain't easy being Jim."

"I wonder..." But Spock trailed off with the slightest furrow between his brows. The crease relaxed after a second or two. "I'll bid you goodnight, Doctor. Tell Jim to 'take it easy' as you would say."

He was gone before Bones could question him about what exactly it was he wondered. "Pointy-eared bastard."


	3. Chapter 3

Everybody ready? It's time for Jim on a couch. A lot. I almost, almost had him listening to Evan and Jaron's Wouldn't It Be Nice to be Proud. You can thank me later for not taking him that low.

* * *

The sky was a hazy blur of black and blue when Jim lifted his gaze from his PADD.

"Hey!"

He quickly turned the PADD face down on his chest. It wasn't easy to hear Bones over the stereo-one of those 21st century types with the shiny compact discs. There was something whimsical about it that appealed to Jim. Simpler times and these days, that didn't seem like such a bad thing. He used the remote to turn down the volume.

"What?" Relieved he didn't sound weird despite the knot in his throat, he managed to meet Bones's eyes.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Unshaven, hair standing up every direction, and dark shadows framing his eyes, Bones looked spectacularly frightening.

Jim raised his head enough to glance at the clock on the stereo. "You want that in military time or GMT? Give me a minute and I can figure it for Gorlan, Janus VI, or Neural if you want."

Sarcasm, his greatest crutch, jumped out and took over his tongue. Thank God for that, anyway.

Bones ripped the remote out of his hand. "It is 3:25 _in the morning_. Some of us are trying to sleep, and if you had any sense in that thick skull of yours, you would be too. What the hell are you listening to anyway?"

"Uh, Collective Soul." The same song he'd been listening to for almost two hours. Maybe it was unwise to mention he'd had _The World I Know_ on loop. "Can I have the remote back?"

"No! Collective what? What the hell are you doing up in the first place?" Bones swiped his hand through his unruly hair.

"Couldn't sleep. Music tames the savage beast and whatnot." Really, it was background noise to accompany the tangled jumble of thoughts floating around in his head. "I'll turn it down if you'll give me the remote back. Or maybe I could switch it to bluegrass?"

He forced a grin he didn't feel, even as Bones's sour expression turned into a full-on _I will smother you with a pillow_ look.

Bones sucked in a breath. "There's nothing wrong with bluegrass. You're just trying to avoid telling me why you can't sleep."

"Why does there have to be a reason?" he hedged.

Bones rolled his eyes. "With you, there's always a reason. Spill it and I won't throw that racket you're calling music out the window."

"That's littering."

The narrow-eyed glare his so-called friend cast at him left little room for stubbornness.

"It's nothing. I just have a lot on my mind. Big empty brain like this, there's lots of room for wayward thoughts."

And there had been since the bar fight. Bar maiming? Shit, he shouldn't have hit Baboon that much. Tonight wasn't the first night he'd laid awake thinking about it. How he shouldn't let one drunk's words get to him. He was the _captain_. He was in charge. People depended on him to be level-headed.

"I listened to just enough of Collective Mold, or whatever the hell you called them to realize it's not a happy song. Since I'm awake, you might as well tell me what's going on. Or I swear to God, I'll comm Spock and make him mind-meld you."

Jim propped himself up on his elbows. "That's low, even for you."

"I'm waiting."

If there was ever a time Jim wished he was capable of setting things on fire with his mind, this was it. A nice little blaze would get him out of this. The most terrible part about wishing that was how sad it seemed that the only solution he could find to getting Bones off his back was becoming a mental pyromaniac.

He didn't have a good explanation for why he got tight-lipped when someone asked him what was wrong, but he might as well have cement in his mouth. His problems were his own and it didn't seem fair to burden others with them.

"I'm okay, just ready to get back to the ship."

The suspicion didn't leave Bones's expression. "It's going to be months before the _Enterprise_ is ready to leave the dock. You can't run around punching baboons every time you get your jump suit in a twist."

Jim snapped his fingers. "Oh, hey, I know. I'll go to the academy board and ask if I can adjunct a defensive combat maneuvers class."

Bones rubbed his forehead. "For the love of...please tell me you're joking. A classroom full of future Starfleet officers getting molded by you in combat maneuvers. Spare the universe, will you? What are you going to do, teach them to bleed?"

Although the comment stung a little, Jim smirked. "Then how do you feel about experimenting with Torothan goats?"

"I don't know what you're doing with the goats, but there are some lines we don't cross in Kentucky." Bones's gaze fell on the PADD. "What were you looking at?"

"Goats," Jim answered, because it was safer discussing four-legged animals than admitting the truth. "I can get us a real deal."

"Jim." There was a tired note in Bones's voice.

Jim faked a yawn. "What do you know. All this talking is putting me to sleep. You're just the antidote I needed." He hit the Off switch on the PADD and rose. "Thanks for the chat."

* * *

One arm flung over his eyes, Jim tried counting Torothan goats-might as well get some use out of the joke-to bore himself to sleep, but he only got so many horns into it before his mind started counting other things. Faces, names, ranks, and ages of the crew members he'd lost on the _Enterprise_. He'd known many of them from classes, or from mingling among them in the mess hall. They were men and women Pike had hand-picked to be in his crew and therefore, Jim had felt confident with them when he inherited the ship.

The admiralty put him in charge of an entire starship, not once, but twice. He'd argued with Pike that he'd never lost a life on his watch, but he'd jinxed himself. Played God. Taken revenge that in the end didn't make him feel any better. Pike was dead and so were thousands of others. All that blood was on his hands.

The apartment door opened, silent on its track.

"Do you know what time it is?"

Jim jumped when Bones growled. He sat up, dropping his PADD on the floor. "It's, I don't know, 1:30?" _I'm not blaring music, so what's the problem?_

He knew the second he answered, that wasn't right. Bones's shift at SFM ended at 3:30 in the afternoon.

"Wrong. Try 4:30. Have you been laying on that couch since I left?" Bones framed his hips with his hands and glared. Phasers didn't have the same stunning effect as his eyes when he was pissed.

"You saw me go to bed, remember?" He didn't roll his eyes because it felt like someone had poured a handful of dust in them.

"I saw you go to bed two days ago. Since then, you've been on that couch, eyeballs glued to that PADD like it has all the answers to the universe. Let me tell you, it doesn't. When was the last time you shaved, showered or did laundry?"

"Uh..." _Two days?_

"I've had it."

The three words leading to a major tantrum. One there was no escaping. Trapped on the couch like an oblivious squirrel in front of a hungry cat. Crap, now _he_ was thinking in metaphors.

"-ridiculous! I know you were joking about teaching, but you need to get out of here for a while. Even a few hours a day. Look at you. You look like the walking dead! Dammit, James-"

Jim winced. He didn't hear _that_ very often from his friends and if Bones had reached the point of intolerance where he was throwing around given names, maybe there was a slight problem.

"What are you going to do, call my mom?" he muttered.

"I swear to God, if you don't get off that couch, I'm hauling you down to SFM and I'm running every test known to man to figure out what's going on in that brain of yours. Go on a date, go sightseeing for all I care, just get off that damned couch and into some fresh air. You're not turning into some kind of agoraphobic. Believe me, I have a hypo for that."

Something about the way Bones said it made Jim think he was serious. He shuddered at the idea of sightseeing. What was there to look at? Broken buildings and people who wanted to point fingers and claim he was the cause of it?

"I've been out of the apartment," he said.

"Twice. Twice since you left the hospital. That's not exactly reassuring me that you've got your life together."

"What's worse, laying around here all day, or going out there and getting into trouble? At least the worst I can do here is slice my finger open with a paring knife."

"You could, if I thought you were actually eating. I never see dishes in the sink and I know what kind of messes you leave in your wake."

For a second Jim let the searing anger flush through him. Bones didn't get it. He hadn't lost control of ship, endangered lives, or jeopardized his life's mission. He couldn't understand any of that.

"You want me to go out? Good, because I'm going." He didn't care that Bones was right and he hadn't showered or changed clothes in a couple of days. Before his roommate could protest, he was out the door.

He'd managed to get down to the street corner before he remembered he'd left his PADD on the floor with all the damning evidence of his anxiety onscreen.


	4. Chapter 4

_Oh, Jim. Can't trap you in the apartment, can't let you out of it. What are we going to do with you? We really need to get you back on that starship. *maniacal laughter* Maybe._

* * *

"I lost Jim."

Because he was out of breath, that was all Bones could get out of his mouth the second Spock opened his door. _And I might be having a heart attack. That little so-and-so is going to make my ticker give out one of these days._

"I'm afraid I need you to clarify that statement, Doctor. Lost him how?" Spock's pupils were wide, his hand clutching the doorframe hard enough his knuckles were white. Although he sounded calm, Spock was clearly alarmed by the announcement.

"We had an argument. He'd been sitting around the apartment for days. Whether he wants to admit it or not-not that he ever would-he's depressed. His PADD was on the floor and it had a list of the _Enterprise's_ casualties when we were attacked by the _Vengeance_." Bones scrubbed his hand over his face. "You know Jim. He doesn't feel like he can talk to anyone about his problems. I've been looking for him for an hour. There's no telling where he is by now."

"You lost Kirk?" Uhura glared at him around Spock's shoulder. "The whole reason behind the two of you living together was so you could make sure he was all right."

Not about to take a dressing down in a time of urgency, Bones straightened. "I had a double shift at the hospital, thank you. Would be so hard for one of you to drop in from time to time?"

She pushed Spock aside. "You might have mentioned he was having a tough time-"

"Nyota." Spock put his hand on her shoulder, his voice soft. "While pointing fingers is a useless endeavor, if you deem it necessary, the two of you may resume it after we find Jim."

Uhura's jaw tightened, but then she relaxed. "Let me get my coat."

"Have you attempted to contact him using his comm?" Spock asked.

Bones sighed. "He left it at home. Along with his coat."

"Common sense suggests he would seek out shelter somewhere warm," Spock mused.

"Have you ever known Jim to use common sense?" Bones muttered. "I came here first because I hoped...well, clearly he's not here. We'd better get the others in on this."

"You know, Doctor, my area of study is hardly human psychology, but I've contemplated the notion that Jim may be suffering from the effects of the Kübler-Ross model."

"You mean grief." Bones pursed his lips. "For Pike."

"Pike, the numerous casualties aboard the ship and on Earth. Perhaps even for himself."

Not once in the weeks following his resurrection had Jim talked about what it was like to be dead. While Bones had saved lives and lost them despite his best efforts, not once had he ever died. Who knew what kind of emotional scar that left on a person?

"He had counseling. I made sure he got it right away. Even if I hadn't, the brass never would have let him get by without it."

"You know Jim," Spock replied drily. "Never one to talk about his feelings. It seems possible that he told his counselor what he or she wanted to hear and ignored any advice that might bring him closer to healing."

Uhura appeared in the doorway, pulling her coat on. "Sulu and Scotty are at the space dock and swear they haven't see him. They can't leave right now. Chekov and Carol are on their way across town. Are you two going to stand around talking all night, or are we going to find him?"

"We're going," Bones confirmed. "I've checked every bar near the apartment, all the hospitals, and the jails. Now it's anybody's guess. When I find him, I swear I'm sticking him with a tracking device in a spot he can't reach."

"You realize he probably waited for you to run after him and sneaked back into the apartment?" Uhura asked.

Bones shook his head. "I checked before I raised the alarm."

"Did you try the roof?" she asked.

"I tried the damn roof! He wasn't hanging off the windowledge either," Bones snapped.

"All right. Fine. I'll leave you two to cover this neighborhood while I meet up with Carol." Uhura took Spock's hand. "If you find him..."

"I'll notify you at once," Spock promised.

She shook her head. "I wanted you to save me an unbruised spot on him so I can smack him for being so thoughtless."

They parted ways, Nyota jogging down the stairs and exiting the building before Bones and Spock.

Bones folded his arms over his chest against the cold air that rushed into the foyer at her departure. "She's right. It's my fault he's gotten this bad. There's been an outbreak of flu and patients all over the hospital. On top of that, Joanna's had trouble with a bully at school. I almost went to Cerberus myself before her mother got it straightened out. I was so caught up with other things that I...Dammit all to hell, I let him down."

And snapped and growled and ignored the stack of depressing 20th century music Jim had amassed without ever leaving the living area.

"Perhaps you're shouldering too much of the burden yourself."

Spock, with his hot Vulcan nature, seemed oblivious to the cool weather. If he had any residual worry about Jim's whereabouts, he'd stuffed them in the back of his mind. The cool XO was back, mask firmly in place. It galled Bones to no end.

"While earthbound, we've all been distracted. It's difficult to find time to meet as a group when we're busy with other tasks. Unlike when we serve on the ship in the same shifts. I believe I'm beginning to understand Jim's restlessness when he's not aboard the ship. You see, we all share the burden of overlooking the captain's problems."

"That doesn't make me feel any better, Spock."

Spock gave him a long look. "In the future, we shall do better. To do for him what he would do for us."

Bones snorted. "Don't know anything about psychology, my ass."

* * *

While cooling his temper and trying to quiet the voice in his head, it had taken Jim a while to make his way around town. He was plenty cool now, with the temperatures hovering around 7 degrees Celsius, he was shivering. Standing in front of a squat brick building in a crummy neighborhood, he hesitated before hitting the buzzer. If Baboon was inside, his chances of getting back to his apartment in one piece were slim. He'd prefer to go back to the apartment without having his face rearranged.

A faint tremble shook his hand that had nothing to do with cold, but he pushed the buzzer and leaned close to the speaker.

"Who's there?" A woman's voice came from the box.

"Captain James Tiberius Kirk. I'm here to see Niles." If Uncle Baboon didn't stomp his head through his-

"Who?"

"I'm from Starfleet, ma'am. I understand Niles's school was destroyed when-"

_Deep breath. You've got this, kid._ Clear as the sun on the perfect summer day, Jim heard Pike.

_Good, I'm crazier than I thought. Nope, not possible. At least as crazy as I always suspected._

The door hissed as it opened, dragging a little on a debris-strewn track. Jim shook off the lingering feeling that Pike was watching him and climbed the stairs to the apartment number he'd found when he should've been sleeping last night.

The door opened a little and a tired-looking woman in a rumpled striped shirt with a name tag that read _Aubrey_ and khaki pants peered out at him. Her brown hair frizzed around her face. She was a lot prettier than Baboon, even with bags under her eyes and no make-up.

"What do you want with Niles?" she asked.

No pleasantries here, but he must look like a maniac, out of uniform and claiming to be a Starfleet officer. "I know this seems strange, but I met your brother at Gravitate a few nights ago and he told me that Niles was in school when the-the _Vengeance_ crashed into the city." His words rushed out and he watched her face change from suspicious to stunned. "I understand that Niles was trapped for a while before they found him and I just wanted to tell him how sorry I am that it happened."

She glanced over her shoulder, but the room behind her was clear. "You're the one who got in the fight with Mark at the bar, aren't you?"

_In for a penny..._ "Yes, ma'am."

Aubrey looked at the floor. "His girlfriend was there. She told me he said some pretty nasty things about you. Mark's temper comes out when there's alcohol involved. He's protective of Niles, so that didn't help."

"He can sure throw a punch, Mrs. Errik." Jim smiled to soften his words. "He was understandably upset about what happened to his nephew and I can't blame him for that."

"I thought Niles would die. I thought we all might." She reached up and ran her fingers down a chain around her neck, to a heart-shaped locket hanging at the top of her shirt. "Niles's father died when he was a baby. To think of losing Niles too. It was...heartbreaking, Captain Kirk."

"I can imagine, ma'am. But please, call me Jim."

"They say you're the reason Khan attacked the city."

The bald statement threw him. He pictured Khan's face when he'd murdered Admiral Marcus. The rage, the absolute, raw anger. Then Baboon's-Mark's-show of hatred in the bar. So people hated him, but what else was new?

"It's complicated." He couldn't very well ask her if she wouldn't do anything to get revenge on someone who destroyed her family. Some people would-he damn sure would've, which made him more like Khan than he wanted to admit. The longer he stood there with her staring, the worse he felt.

"Starfleet tell you to say that?" she asked.

"No. It's a longer story than I want to tell right now. It's getting late and I thought Niles might appreciate a personal apology. I understand if you don't want me to talk to him." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling more and more out of place.

"You know, Jim, you have to tell the story someday or it'll eat you alive." Aubrey reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "My husband didn't have an accident. He worked off-planet with war refugees and one day, he couldn't take the stress anymore. No matter how many people he helped, there was always one or two or 50 that he couldn't save. Suffering. That's what killed him. You look like a man who knows what suffering is."

Life could be so unfair. "I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am."

"Thank you. Since it's not a school night, I'll let you in to speak with Niles. I'm sure he'll be honored to meet a real starship captain." She smiled. "Rumor has it you risked your life to save your crew."

"Do you believe every rumor you hear?" he asked.

"Funny thing about being a mom." She tilted her head. "To protect your kid, you learn who to trust and who to avoid pretty quick."

"It's probably because I have one of those faces."

"That could be it." She grinned and opened the door wider. "Niles! We have company."

* * *

_If you're reading this, you'd better comm one of us IMMEDIATELY, you selfish bastard._

Jim sank into the couch cushions, balancing his PADD on one knee while he flipped his comm open. He didn't need a signature to know the message was from Bones. He'd been out for a while, clearing his head after meeting Niles Errik and listening to the boy pour out his concerns and fears. Much as he wanted to, Jim couldn't promise the world was safe forever, but he assured Niles that Starfleet would do everything they could to protect all the planets in the Federation. And he was going to have to clear it with Admiral Barnett, but he'd more or less promised Niles his class could tour the _Enterprise_ when she was ready.

The comm in his hand bleeped, displaying Sulu's information. He clicked it on.

"Yeah?"

"Oh, thank God." The relief was obvious in Sulu's voice. "I've got him!"

Jim heard a muffled voice in the background. Definitely a Scottish burr, not a Southern drawl.

"What's up?" he asked, deliberately casual. "How's our girl?"

"Jim, you'd better get in touch with McCoy or Spock _right now_. They're out for blood," Sulu warned. "You can probably handle McCoy, but you know what Spock's like when he's pissed, man."

Jim winced, thinking of Vulcan nerve pinches. "Yeah, I do. Good talking to you."

Sulu was quiet for a moment. "You're okay, right?"

"Yeah, I'm great. Why?" Hale and hearty, wasn't that the saying?

"It's...nothing. Just call McCoy as soon as we disconnect, okay?"

"Gotcha. And Hikaru?"

"I...yeah?"

"Thanks for the heads up. Kirk out."

He closed the comm, staring at the message Bones had left for him. He was in deep shit now. But what else was new? The comm bleeped again and he thought he could hear Bones swearing on the other end before he opened it.


	5. Chapter 5

_Eat up the flirty fun parts now, because the next chapter...yeah, it's not easy for anyone._

* * *

"James Kirk, this is absolutely sinful. I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Carol purred.

Jim grinned and wagged his eyebrows. "You've never experienced anything this good before, trust me."

"It gets better? I'll die if there's more." Carol gasped and moaned. "Oh, God, you're right. I'd heard the rumors, of course, but I thought they were exaggerated."

"Don't ever let it be said I don't know how to show a girl a good time."

He stuck his spoon into the dessert they shared. He found the exotic chocolate and fruit dish a little rich for his taste, but he hadn't met a woman yet who could refuse it. During his time at the academy, he'd brought plenty of women to Cianto's Restaurant, a well-kept secret hidden downtown. Although it had been months since he'd been in, the owner had recognized him and directed them at a table away from prying eyes.

Carol smiled. "I've heard of this dish, but I can't help wondering how many other women have you wooed with Chef Raul's Rapture?"

Jim cleared his throat. "Why would you assume I've brought other women here? Maybe I wanted to do something special with you."

"The waiter asked if you wanted your usual dessert and he winked after you agreed. I'm neither blind nor deaf." She twirled the spoon between her fingers. "When you asked me on a date, I considered refusing, you know. Going out seems like a strange thing to do with all the buzz over the last few weeks. Despite the assurances and my permanent assignment to the _Enterprise_, I think the admiralty is watching me. It's been a little disheartening, all this attention and negativity about my father. I wonder whether they'll ever truly trust me."

"Hey, I thought we weren't talking Starfleet tonight." He dipped his finger in his water glass and flipped droplets at her.

Carol let out a little shriek, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Peering around, she straightened her shoulders and gave him a stern look. "That was rude."

"I was helping. You have chocolate right here." He dipped his napkin in the glass and used it to wipe the corner of her mouth. There wasn't really anything on her face, but it was a good excuse to get closer to her.

"Big as my mouth is, it's hard to imagine I ever miss, isn't it?"

She gave him a saucy grin and Jim's heart beat a little faster.

"It's not big. It's perfect." He meant it and felt a dopey smile cross his face.

"You say that now. Just wait until I stick my foot in it." She twirled the spoon again. "What surprises me most about this evening is that Dr. McCoy agreed to allow you to venture out with only me to keep you out of trouble."

_Me too._ But he couldn't say that, because then it would seem like he hadn't wanted to get to know her better. "That's how I can tell he likes you. He wouldn't trust my safety with just anyone."

"I think it's nice that he cares so much for you. That your friends are your family. Not every captain has that kind of relationship with his crew."

_I almost lost them all._

"Admiral Pike said I'm both the luckiest and unluckiest son of a bitch he'd ever met."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Carol's hand slid across the table and covered his. "I know you were very close to him and it must have been awful missing his funeral."

The lump in Jim's throat threatened to choke him. It was a minute before he trusted himself to speak. "He was a good man."

It went unspoken that her father hadn't been. While he'd missed Pike's funeral thanks to his regenerating cells, Carol had been on house arrest during her father's.

She smiled thinly. "We should get going. I have a meeting in the morning I simply can't miss. While I'm sure lingering over dinner with the notorious Captain Kirk would give me some measure of sympathy, I feel it's important to make a good impression."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about. Toss them one of those eyeball melting smiles you've been giving me all evening and you'll get whatever you want out of the meeting." He waited for her to stand before following.

"I'm more than a pretty face." She pouted. "There's a brain beneath this blond hair. I rather like to think it's at least as sharp as yours."

"I think that's why I like you so much, Carol. Brains and beauty. You're practically a lethal weapon." He held his arm out for her, pleased when she accepted it.

* * *

Carol fussed with the little clutch she carried. "Would you like to come up?"

The townhouse they'd arrived at had neatly trimmed hedges out front and little flower boxes on the windows. Lights glowed on either side of the red paving stones leading up to the door. It was neat and cutesy and the opposite of a modern, sleek starship.

He wanted to say yes, but in the spirit of fairness, it seemed rude to bother her. "I thought you had some big important meeting tomorrow. Or was that an excuse?"

"It's for coffee, not the entire night." She flashed a smile that revealed her nervousness. "Come on."

"The lady insists." He let her lead him inside. His shoes squeaked on the glossy wooden floors. Little china cats, bulky knitted afghans, and cross-stitched samplers decorated the living area. Jim tried to keep his expression neutral. "You really like cats, huh?"

Carol hung her purse on a coat rack and smoothed her dress down. She tilted her head and frowned. "This house belongs to my aunt. I'm watching it while she's on a space cruise."

"I see. That's a relief. I mean, it's a little early for you to adopt the whole crazy cat lady persona." He picked up a framed photograph of a smiling blond girl on the beach sitting in front of a sand castle. "Is this you?"

"Yes, when I was about eight, the summer before my mother and father separated. We came as a family to visit Auntie Roberta." She touched the glass and smiled. "My father took this picture. You can see his shadow at the edge of the frame."

Her fingers trailed over the black human-shaped blob at the bottom.

Jim wasn't sure what to say. Maybe once upon a time Marcus hadn't been batshit crazy. "You were cute."

"It's all an act, I assure you. I was a petulant child full of mischief and stubbornness." She took the photograph from him and replaced it. "Coffee?"

"Might as well."

"Kitchen's this way." Her hands fluttered at her sides and her smile faltered.

Jim hesitated. "Carol, if you this is moving too fast for you, I'm happy to go."

Her face flushed bright red. "It's not you. I'm only worried you're going to despise me for what's coming. Please don't be angry, Jim. This is for your own good."

A chair scraped the floor from the direction of the kitchen. His muscles tensed and he widened his feet to a shoulder's width apart, arms raised as he prepared for whoever was about to come through the doorway. Carol seemed so sincere when she talked about how she hated the way she felt like their superiors watched her. The betrayal cut him, but he wasn't going down without a fight. In the back of his mind, he half feared it was Khan, risen from his cold prison. Or worse, those bastards from Section 31, coming to treat him like a science experiment.

"Jim, please don't do anything stupid. It's not what you think," she said. "We're your friends."

He came within inches of loosing his fist on Spock's face. Spock, of course, didn't blink, as though he knew beforehand that the blow would never land. He took half a step back.

"I hope you enjoyed your evening with Dr. Marcus."

"What the hell?" Jim asked, bewildered that _Spock_ of all people was in Carol's house.

When he looked over Spock's shoulder, his entire bridge crew was gathered around the kitchen table. From their expressions, they'd gathered for a wake, not a party. So he wasn't under enemy attack, but he sure didn't like the looks of this either.

Without a doubt, it was a reprimand for his disappearing act the other night.

He'd gotten off too easy. Bones had given him a ten minute lecture about running off without proper attire in flu season and without a comm, but nothing else had been said. He hadn't even asked where Jim had gone. A few days later when Bones suggested he ease himself out of the habit of staying in by giving Carol a call, he should've known something was up. But why here and now?

"Eager as you are to hear about our date, this seems inappropriate." When it doubt, laugh it out. He barely managed a smile and didn't get any in return.

"If you care to take a seat, we can begin." Spock gestured at an empty chair.

"Begin what?" he asked warily.

Carol slipped past him, settling next to Uhura.

"Something's got to give, Jim. We're your friends and we're worried." Bones sounded deadly serious.

"You don't have to say anything right now, just listen." The look peevish look Uhura usually reserved for him was gone. Sympathy shined in her eyes. "We're a team and we can work this out together. The way we should have before it ever came to this."

"Work what out? I'm okay. Fresh clothes, a shave, a date. Perfectly fine." He offered them a shaky smile. "You guys are freaking me out."

"Grief. One one lever or another, we have all experienced suffering." Spock nodded at the empty chair again.

"Time to put it to bed, man," Bones said.

He looked tired and worried.

_Shit, I did that to him. To all of them. Failed them again._

"He's making the sad puppy eyes again," Scotty complained, gesturing his direction. "Ach, it makes me want tae hug him and send him out tae play. It's not fair."

Bones scowled, looking more like himself. "Don't fall for it. I've seen that face a thousand times and it's not working this time. It shouldn't have any effect on you, because he cold-cocked you to play hero. If anything, you should be royally pissed."

"Well, there's that," Scotty agreed. He frowned and his eyebrows knit together. "Sit down! We're not leaving till this is settled."

Jim's temper ignited. "Is that what you think? I hit Scotty so I could run into the warp core _for the fun of it_? Did everyone here forget I did it to save your lives?"

"Men." Uhura groaned. "Settle down. This is not how this is supposed to go."

He glared, but it had no effect. "I don't know what you all were planning, but I thought I was getting coffee. So do whatever it you're doing, or don't, but I'm not sticking around."

"You can't leave. I've locked the door from the inside," Carol said, her voice low and worried. "Please, Jim. Sit and listen, because we need this as much as you do."

He wanted to hate her for tricking him into coming here. Maybe all the flirty and silliness they'd shared at dinner was an act, but the soft plea stopped him. His friends-his family-needed to talk to him. There would never come a day when he wouldn't stop to listen to them. He owed them that much, because he hadn't listened enough in the past.

He sat, but folded his arms over his chest. "What's the problem?"


	6. Chapter 6

_Fair warning, this is a rough chapter with lots of hurts and tears. Bring your Kleenexes and chocolate. We're gonna need them. And please forgive me screwing with the time line, family trees, and Chekov's horrible, horrible accent. I'm pretty sure I don't know any Russian people. Also, I drop an f-bomb in this chapter, but I almost think Jim classes those up...so, I'll shut up now and let you guys have it._

* * *

Spock was the one with the head for numbers. He could calculate the odds of pretty much anything. But Jim could pick any lock anywhere any time. If he wanted out, there wasn't a room that could hold him. Seven people against him and one way out, well, the odds were in his favor no matter what anyone thought. There was little comfort in that, because he had the feeling something worse would happen if he ran away from this. Sure, he'd survived worse than a _talk_ with his crew, but it didn't mean he wanted to experience whatever this was.

Bones leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "The problem is, we've all lost someone. You don't make it through life without taking some knocks. Death is...well, it's always harder for the ones left behind. It's understandable that you blame yourself for Admiral Pike's loss. There's always that nagging voice that says, _what if I tried harder? What if I spoke up sooner? _In the end, all the what-ifs in the world don't add up to a solution. I admired Pike too. God knows, the man put up with a lot of shit from you and he taught me a thing or two about patience." He smiled and ducked his head, but Jim caught the glitter of tears in his eyes. "We're all walking around, dazed, trying to put our lives back together thanks to Marcus and Khan."

He glanced at Carol, who sat stiffly in her chair, mouth pinched, but she nodded at him.

Bones sat back in his seat. "I don't talk about my old man very often, but you got the whole story that time we made moonshine out of the fruit we stole from the alien botany department at the academy. God, that shit was awful, but it was potent."

Jim swallowed hard. Although he'd been drunk on yelg melon 'shine, he remembered Bones's tearful tales about David McCoy with terrible clarity.

"He's the reason I became a doctor, you know. He could take a single look at his patients and diagnose their illness like that." Bones snapped his fingers. "I could study for two centuries and never be half the doctor he was. When he begged me to...let him go, I thought, what else can I do? He was slowly dying in a way no human should have to suffer. The man gave me everything. I owed him. And then when they discovered the cure months-just months-after I put an end to his life...there aren't words for how much I hated myself. Whiskey dulled the pain, but never drowned it. I'd come out of a fog and remember I deprived my daughter of ever knowing her grandfather."

Bones had gone pale and he stared at his hands as though he'd choked the life out of his dad instead of using humane chemicals.

Jim's chest hurt and he realized he'd forgotten to breathe. His fingernails were buried in his sweaty palms. "You don't have to-"

"Yeah, I do." Bones met his gaze. "That's what this is about. You're hurting. We all are. How can you heal if you can't admit you have a problem? You know what it's like. There's a gaping hole where your heart ought to be and it's a struggle to breathe. You wake up every morning-the mornings when you've actually managed to get some sleep-and say God, if you'll just make that be a bad dream, I swear I'll give up all my vices and go to church every Sunday from now till Judgment Day. And somehow, it's never enough." His gaze never wavered. "On top of losing my dad, I ruined my marriage and I couldn't stay sober long enough to attend a custody hearing over Joanna. I probably would have flunked out of the academy and I'd be dead in a gutter somewhere if I hadn't almost puked on you in that shuttle. If you hadn't helped me get my shit together, Jocelyn would've kept my daughter from me for good."

Jim had never told anyone about Bones's past. It wasn't his to share. He suspected that Bones kept a lot of old griefs locked away inside. That he was sharing with this group of people now meant he was really worried.

It wasn't easy, admitting weakness. He'd rather show his underbelly to another blood-thirsty hengrauggi than talk about his feelings.

"So when I looked at you in that body bag, on that damned stretcher, I had the same sense of loss, except this time I knew there wasn't enough liquor in the world to drown that pain. You don't know how many nightmares I've woken up from where the serum didn't work, or caused some kind of reaction. I'd have to get up to check on you and tell myself I'm a damned idiot for worrying so much. You're a pain in my ass, kid, acting like you're invincible, running that smart mouth off when you ought to back down, but, dammit, Jim, you're like a brother to me."

Bones's eyes were wet again and Jim's throat was sore from trying to hold back his own tears. When he glanced around, he saw there wasn't a dry eye in the room.

"My grandfather was a two-time vorld-champion chess player," Chevok blurted. "Ve vere close. I vas alvays too smart for the other keeds. He encouraged me to apply for Starfleet. Vhen I entered secondary school, he began to forget things. Leettle things at first, but his mind varped quickly and he needed care around the clock. I wisited him ewery day after school, although he only knev me as a stranger. I vas slated to graduate early and start at the academy. My family vas so excited and den...he died. I voke in the meedle of the night and knew something vas wrong." Chevok paused. "Keptin, vhen Mr. Scott commed Commander Spock, I knew...it vas as bad as losing my grandfather."

There was no denying the hot trails of tears slowly rolling down his face now. Jim didn't bother trying to wipe them away. The Russian whiz kid, usually so bouncy and full of life, looked like a wilted flower as he talked about his grandfather. Jim wouldn't have guessed such tragedy had blackened Chevok's life.

"Gaila," Uhura said. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "She wasn't my best friend, but she was a good friend. I was too busy studying, always trying to make the top grade to have a best friend."

Jim pictured Gaila's face. Pretty, with ringlets of red hair, bubbly, always laughing about something. She was a hell of a kisser. He regretted their last conversation, when she admitted she thought she loved him. He'd picked her brain, used her knowledge of computer programming to shut down the _Kobayashi Maru_ so he could win. And he'd never had the chance to properly thank her for it.

"When Nero attacked Vulcan, I was assigned to the _Farragut_." Uhura slid her gaze to Spock. "We all thought it was a training exercise and I wasn't happy about my assignment. I thought I should be on the _Enterprise_ and I...made a little fuss about it, but Gaila, she was so excited to be on board any ship. She had a real spirit for adventure. I wish I had told her how much her friendship meant to me. Even when she was sneaking boys into the room."

Uhura sniffed and dabbed her eyes. "We lost so many cadets that day. Not just Gaila, but most of our class. I still wake up some nights in a cold sweat. If I hadn't demanded to join the _Enterprise_, might be dead too. It seemed like a miracle that we defeated the _Narada_. When Khan attacked, I thought we were doomed when the _Enterprise_ plummeted into Earth's atmosphere. I should've known, Jim Kirk had a plan. A stupid one, but nevertheless. And despite all your annoying habits at the academy, you've never let us down. When I saw you behind the glass. It hurt, Jim."

Spock reached for her hand. Jim's mouth went dry.

Scotty cleared his throat. "I had a twin sister. Oh, do nae look so shocked. She was nae as pretty as me. I burst forth from me mother's loins like a little angel and she like a great goblin." His smile was broken. "She had all the brains. Made me look like a halfwit. _Sit in the corner and look pretty, Montgomery,_ our mum would say, _while Margaret recites the poem book she just memorized ten seconds ago._ She'd not only know where Admiral Archer's beagle ended up, but she'd have meant it to go where she sent it. Could've come up with the transporter formula in her sleep, my sister. Brainy like Chekov here. We were young when she died. Got lost on a trip off-world during summer camp. Margaret was brilliant, but she had nae sense of direction. McCoy is right. Leaves a nasty wound when a loved one is taken, be it sudden or swift. And I felt a wee bit betrayed when I discovered ye'd gone intae the warp core. Ye do nae listen. So pardon me if I'm still angry because ye did nae heed me advice for a second time."

But Scotty didn't look angry. He just looked sad.

"Uh, I had a hamster once. His name was Mr. Puffles." Baffled silence greeted Sulu's announcement. "My sister named him. No boy in his right mind would call a hamster that. You know, hamsters don't have very long lifespans and Mr. Puffles couldn't handle my sister's affection. And also, I might have let him loose in the house on purpose after he bit me. My fault. I didn't know they were nocturnal until later..."

"Sulu," Bones growled.

Sulu sighed. "Okay, fine. I thought I'd break the ice with the hamster. The time I lost someone I cared about, it was my first fencing instructor. Mademoiselle Roux. My parents started all of us off young with a different sport or instrument. I got fencing and it seemed completely ridiculous because I was clumsy and a little too bookish as a kid. Not that I wanted to play the violin or piano, but those seemed like better options than fencing. Mademoiselle was stern and she liked to use her outside voice indoors. I was terrified of her for the first few weeks. Dropping my foil and constantly stepping out of bounds. She wasn't afraid to knock a kid down if it meant proving his weaknesses. I actually threatened to run away from home if my parents didn't let me quit the lessons. They told me to give it a little more time. The Sulus aren't quitters."

He smiled. "Funny, they were right. One day I got enough of her saying my name like a curse word and I really started paying attention. The first time I defeated her in a fencing match was the first time I ever saw her smile. She was proud of me. We took a shuttle to another town for a competition and there was a malfunction. The pilot said we had to make an emergency landing, but before he got us on the ground, the machinery gave out and we crashed. There was fire all around us and kids screaming for help. There was a hole in the top of the shuttle just big enough to squeeze through. The last thing she ever said to me was, _Hikaru, you have a cool head on your shoulders, watch after them until help gets here._ She gave me a leg up, then pushed the other kids through one by one. Only one of them didn't make it. Smoke inhalation and it got her too. She taught me to be the best I can be and I won't ever forget that. It's not everyday you meet someone willing to risk everything for a friend or a stranger. The world feels a little more empty when you lose someone like that."

The threads holding Jim's tattered composure were unraveling. He bit his tongue, striving to be quiet. Sulu's mentor sounded like the type of person who knew how to push enough to turn a kid into a leader. Just like Pike.

Carol seemed to have shrunk, sitting so rigid in her seat, she looked as though she'd rather sink through the floor than talk about the person she'd lost.

"My father wasn't always bent on war. At least, I choose to believe he wasn't. There are plenty of photos of us as a family, before he let his career take over. When I was a little girl, he traveled often, but we accompanied him. He never failed to read me a bedtime story and if he couldn't manage it face to face, then by view screen. I suppose he was gone long before I knew. The man Khan killed wasn't the man I thought I knew. He...well, he made a mistake and it cost his life. Lots of lives," she whispered, closing her eyes. "When you died, Jim, I felt like it was largely my fault. I should have done more to stop him, but I've no idea what. I feel as though there's an enormous weight on my shoulders and it's so much worse for tricking you into coming here tonight. I hope you'll be able to forgive me."

She met his gaze, but he couldn't speak. The tight knot in his chest, grown there by sympathy for the people he cared about most, threatened to choke him. They all walked around, going about their daily lives like they didn't give a flipping fuck about what the universe had thrown at them. Bones was right. They'd all lost someone. They'd all come up against the brick wall that grief threw up and they'd either climbed over it or smashed it down.

Damn metaphors again, he thought.

And Spock. He looked at his friend, almost hoping he wouldn't have to listen to what kind of sorrow losing an entire planet caused his first officer. If Sulu's hamster story was a lame attempt at getting out of the game, he could only imagine what kind of dry tale Spock would present.

For a moment, Spock didn't say anything. There was a lot of shuffling as the crew members gave each other understanding looks or passed tissues. The room was unbearably hot and Jim started to sweat. He looked toward the door, hoping someone would say, _it's over, you can go home now_ and knowing that wasn't likely to happen.

"The destruction of my planet was...harrowing. Six billion inhabitants, going about their lives one moment and the next we were nearly extinct." Spock stared hard at the table. "They were powerless to stop Nero from annihilating them. I was powerless when I reached for my mother and she fell."

Jim watched Uhura slid her hand over Spock's thigh.

Spock looked up briefly and met her gaze. The faintest smile curved his lips and faded before Jim was certain he'd seen it.

"Nero's need for revenge against me is an unfathomable crime that ruined and impacted many more lives than Admiral Marcus's and Khan's actions. I not only bear the devastating weight of knowing my older self failed to save the Romulans, igniting the Vulcans' fate, the pain of losing my mother, but also the Starfleet ships lost during the battle and the _U.S.S. Kelvin_."

Jim felt like he'd been punched in the gut. Without saying it, he knew Spock was referring to his dad. Knowing he'd grown up with a father in another reality was jarring. It was too weird and uncomfortable to think about whether he was dead or alive or just how different his life was from right now. It led to crazy thoughts and deep-seated envy of his other self. Better not to dwell on that.

Spock folded his hands his hands on the table. "There is all that to think on and if it weren't difficult enough, there was the moment I saw you behind the glass, out of reach. I was unable to offer comfort as you drew your final breath. Once again, the hopelessness was overbearing. It's not often that I find myself wishing to utterly destroy another living being, but Khan's actions were-" He looked Jim dead in the eye. "I've never hated anyone. There is no other emotion that accurately describes my feelings. It was hatred. He not only stole the life of Admiral Pike, who felt confusion and pain as he died, but he took you from us. I could not tolerate his presence in this universe, so I attempted to kill him."

The room fell silent again and Jim drew in a breath.


	7. Chapter 7

_Everyone survive the last chapter? Got all your tears out? Oh, that's what you think. I hope you saved some chocolate and Kleenexes for this round._

* * *

Jim took in the faces watching him. He'd never suspected they carried so much torment between them. They had enough sad stories to keep a therapist busy for years, even without him. Knowing he'd added to their troubles made him feel about two inches tall.

_Do you see how much you mean to these people, Jim? You can't give up, because they believe in you._ Pike's voice broke through his tumultuous thoughts.

Bones, who thought of him as a brother. Chekov, the boy genius who'd saved his life more than once by calculating complicated transporter formulas at the spur of the moment. Uhura, who knew what it was to have regrets for not telling a friend her true feelings. Sulu, who understood the value of a good mentor. Stubborn Scotty, who seemed to have a sixth sense about the ship. Carol, who cared enough about him to lock him in her aunt's house until shit was settled. Spock, unflappable and sometimes infuriating, who'd kill for him.

Jim ran his hand down his face. His fingers came away wet. He wanted to say something light to break the somber mood, to let them know that he really was okay. Or that he was at least headed in that direction. His tongue and mind betrayed him. They watched him expectantly, as though he was about to issue orders to send them into space instead of spill his guts.

"I didn't know. I mean, I knew I wasn't the only person who suffered, but you all seem so...together. Like shit doesn't eat you up." He stared hard at the jagged wood grain of the table. "In my family, we don't talk about...anything. Damn sure never about feelings. You just suck it up and get on with things. But there was nothing for me to get on with. I kept replaying scenarios in my head. If I'd spoken up before Khan attacked and I'd helped Pike get out of the room. If I hadn't demanded Marcus let us go after Khan. I never should have trusted him. Either of them."

He ran his hand through his hair. Much as he hated it, he _did_ remember dying. For weeks, he'd been telling people it was blur, the details were fuzzy, his actions a haze.

_If only._

He'd been scared and alone, although those were feelings he was accustomed to. He'd known the minute the ship stopped its free fall, but he'd still worried his actions weren't enough. In the end, he didn't have the strength to free himself from the chamber, couldn't have without risking radiating everyone nearby, so he'd made his way to the door, sick with fear and poison. Alone, like always. It was the worst pain he remembered suffering. The feeling that he was burning from the inside out and the way his lungs refused to draw in oxygen.

"To be honest, dying wasn't the hard part. I mean, it sucked, don't get me wrong. They put those warning stickers on the windows to tell you to stay out. They ought to ask a survivor to write a description about what it's like to-"

He stopped, because Spock was the only one there not wearing a mask of horror. "Or maybe they could make a G-rated computer animated tutorial," he muttered. "Mostly I worried about you guys. I knew you could take care of yourselves. A crew like mine, hell, a captain couldn't ask for any better. I knew you'd all be okay, as along as the warp core was back online. I taught you about no-win scenarios. With Spock in control, surely you could handle a little thing like surviving."

He offered them a shaky smile. "I didn't do anything Pike wouldn't have done. You know if he'd been there, he'd have gone into that chamber in a second. And I thought I had the chance to make it up to him, all those times I pissed him off and gave him reason to doubt me. It was worth the pain, the fear, the unknown."

He drew a ragged breath.

"Maybe not worth the questions afterward. Facing the admirals and Section 31. But it was all like it happened to someone else. Being sequestered in the apartment was sort of a blessing and a curse. I couldn't stand seeing the city torn up, but spending so much time alone was rough. Darkness started to creep in. While I was in the hospital, I'd missed the funerals of people I knew and liked. People who fought beside me and laughed at my dumb jokes. And Pike, who introduced me to this life. I owe him everything, but he's gone. Everyone was just _gone_ and there wasn't any way to apologize for letting them down. My best plan failed. I started memorizing the lists of casualties. I thought things were getting better after they restored my position, but then Baboon-I mean Mark-set me off in that bar. I didn't even know what I'd done to him until it was over. It was like watching some other idiot smash his face. I've thought about that a lot and that guy is getting a Beer of the Month basket starting next month until the end of time to make up for the way I tried to swap his nose out with his mouth. But between him and those damn reporters who wouldn't stop hounding me about whether I was siding with Marcus, trying to get the Federation involved in war, it was a lot to carry."

So much, his brain wanted to explode just from talking about it.

"I'm sorry I let you guys down. I'm not sure what I'm doing anymore and maybe I shouldn't have agreed to return as captain. Maybe..." He closed his eyes. He was about to say something that had crossed his mind a hundred times, but he thought would never pass his lips. "Maybe I _should_ go back to the academy. There are men and women more qualified, more sure of themselves, who would kill to be in my place."

He didn't feel guilty for saying it, because he knew Spock had considered terminating his position with Starfleet when Vulcan was destroyed. Sometimes stepping back was the only way to clear one's head of the muddle. If he went back, maybe it would show the admiralty-the world-he had some humility.

The words were met with looks of sadness and a few loud protests. Spock raised his hand to still the others.

"While there is truth to your statement about other officers who desire your position within Starfleet, the seven of us object to your reasoning. I respect the decisions of our superiors and I do not question their choice for returning the _Enterprise_ to your command. Though we have encountered some rather trying situations, we have always come through them. Together. Your ability to think on your feet,while often perplexing, has saved us on numerous occasions."

Jim blinked. "Thanks, I think."

"The point is," Bones said, "each one of us is a little messed up in the head. Doesn't mean we can lay down and quit. We all have scars. You ever scare us like that again and we'll each take a turn bringing you back to life just to kill you again."

_Note to self: Don't die again, and stop making your friends worry so much._

"You got something on your mind, one of us is happy to listen. No one us has gone through the same thing, but we'll do our best to come up with a solution if you can't. You idiot." Bones's serious face was replaced by a frown. "And where the hell is my Beer of the Month basket? Do you realize much of your shit I've put up with? One guy in a bar ruffles your feathers and he gets beer for life?"

Jim ducked his head, smiling. "We'll talk about it."

"Fair enough. Now will one of you tell the poor kid about his ship? Get his mind off the bad things, please?"

Scotty grinned. "The _Enterprise_ is under repair seven days a week. Nae rest for the weary. Rumor has it that's because they want her done before they make a special announcement."

"Like what?" Jim asked. He didn't dare put hope into news about their next assignment.

"The five year mission coming up," Sulu replied. "There's a pool taking bets on who's getting it and you've got 2-1 odds."

"Really?" Jim shook his head, stunned. "Unbelievable. Anyone betting on me is going to lose their ass. There's no way we're getting that mission."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Admit it, Kirk. You want it."

"Is there anyone at this table who doesn't want to explore deep space?" he asked.

"Me. I like it just fine on Earth," Bones grumbled.

"Your opinion doesn't count." Jim drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "You go where the ship goes." He paused. "I'm earthbound for another week, per my disciplinary hearing, but afterward, I can help with the repairs. The sooner we get her space-worthy again, the sooner we can find out where we're going next."

Wanting the mission didn't guarantee he'd get it, but even if they missed out this time, there would be another in the future. He hadn't been this excited about anything since before he'd been busted down to Pike's first officer. Not even his clearance for captaincy. Now he wanted to return to the bridge and open space.

Sulu nudged Chekov. "There it is."

"What?" Jim asked.

"The captain is back," Uhura said. "That spark that was missing."

"It wasn't missing," he defended. "It just got misplaced for a while. I-thanks, guys."

Strange as it was to be smothered with care, it felt good too. They'd poured their hearts out for him. He looked at Carol and smiled. She still appeared pensive. The trouble her father had caused cost them so much. She had as much crap to get over as any of them.

"Maybe you guys could give me a few minutes alone with Carol? After all, I didn't come here to see any of you."

"How's that for gratitude?" Bones muttered.

"It is getting late," Uhura agreed. "Can we trust you not to keep Carol up all night?"

"She has enough sense to know when to throw me out."

He thanked them again as they left, silently promising to do better. It couldn't have been easy for any of them to open up the way they had. When he was alone with Carol, he moved closer to the chair she occupied.

"I sure didn't see that coming."

"I'm sorry, Jim. I understand if you're disgusted by the way I tricked you." She nervously examined her fingernails, avoiding his eyes.

"Hey, I'm not mad. You were trying to help. That's what friends do."

"Friends," she murmured. "I'm glad to retain the honor."

"Before this, I had a good time with you. You're smart and funny and you didn't eat like a bird. I hate it when women do that. I thought we had fun." He swallowed, wondering if she'd been acting. If it had all been a ploy to get him here, well, he'd handle it. But he had to ask. "I wondered if you'd like to do it again soon."

Her blue eyes went wide. "You'd consider another date with me after that? I thought you'd think I'm as deceptive as my father. I've lied to you twice now."

He leaned closer, reaching out to brush her hair behind her ear. "I think you do the best you know how. Whatever it takes to get the job done, right?"

"If you're sure you can forgive me, I'll gladly accompany you out again."

"Already done," he assured her.

Her lips beckoned him. It wasn't the thrill of knowing he could get her into bed that made him want her. Or the idolizing hero worship that some girls had for him. She looked clean through him and knew he was flawed and at times pathetic, but still looked for his best.

Jim kissed her, a quick brush of lips, one that made him want more, but if he was going to explore a relationship with her, he already knew it didn't have to be rushed. Five year mission or not, he had plenty of time to get to know her.

"Thanks for inviting me in, Carol."

* * *

He'd turned down the offers for company when he went to the cemetery. Now, standing on the beginning of the row where Pike was buried, Jim wasn't sure he'd made the right choice. He could've made a joke, covered his unease if he'd let one of the others come.

He wasn't about to start talking to himself. All he needed was for one of the other grave visitors to overhear and report him as a nut job wandering around a cemetery.

Dry grass crunched under his feet as he approached the bare patch of dirt midway down the row. Dark granite tombstones bore names and dates, but they were all meaningless to him. Many of them had fake flowers or little statues propped up beside them. Jim had something for Pike too. He was surprised, though he should have been, that there were flowers and a few photographs on the edge of Pike's grave. Of course he hadn't been the only one who admired Pike.

He stopped in front of the dirt mound, mouth dry and throat scratchy. A small marker pierced the earth, bearing the admiral's name and information. So far there wasn't a stone for him because the earth had to settle first or the tombstone would sink.

Jim didn't know why he knew that, only that he hated the little plaque with a slip of paper inside. It wasn't enough to commemorate a great man.

_This isn't right. You shouldn't be down there. I'd do anything if..._

He stopped the thought. No amount of bargaining would help. _I hope your headstone tells people what kind of man you were. Brave. Loyal. Selfless. I hope the guys making it know how much everyone looked up to you._

His vision blurred. The dull ache in his chest grew.

_Ah, man._

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "This is not how I wanted to tell you I respected you. We should've been sitting down over some beers, watching a game, just talking about life, and all the stupid things I did at the academy." Jim closed his eyes, picturing the scene. "I would've said I was sorry for the trouble I caused, for being such a pain in the ass, and you've said something like-"

"_You're gonna bring all that up? Now? We're watching Oakland slaughter Green Bay."_

_But you would've muted it, taken a drink of beer, and said, "Look, kid, we all have to come into our own. It takes some longer than others, but I've never seen anyone with drive like yours. You just needed the training and experience to go along with your instincts. I was never prouder of you than when you beat the odds. When I met you in that bar in Iowa, I just knew you were going to follow your father's footsteps. But don't let it go to your head. Who the hell am I kidding? It's too late."_

He didn't open his eyes, letting the spirit of his mentor stay beside him.

"I would've told you that I couldn't have done it on my own. I wouldn't have accomplished anything if you hadn't given me a push and trusted me."

_I know, Jim. But that's what mentors are for. Friends too. You still have plenty of people to turn to. They need you. That's why you're here. So don't let them down. Don't go down that dark road again, or I'll come back and kick your ass. It won't be pretty._

A raindrop hit his cheek-or it might've been a tear, hard to say-and Jim opened his eyes. Another lovely winter day in San Francisco. It didn't matter, because in a few hours, he'd been aboard the _Enterprise_ for the first time in almost three months. He was cleared for duty, eager to walk the halls of his ship, sit in his chair on the bridge, examine the guts of his beloved ship. Eager to find out what came next.

"Thank you, Christopher." Jim kneeled at the head of the grave and placed the starship-shaped salt shaker he'd taken the night he met Pike at the bar on the cold dirt. It was just a stupid piece of ceramic, but it reminded him of the night his world had changed forever.


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks, you all for all the really nice comments you leave. They make me smile. You guys are great, you know that? I'm only beating up on Jim a little this chapter. Enjoy the snark._

* * *

The view from a shuttle overlooking Earth never failed to take Jim's breath away. Big patches of green, brown, and blue, the swirls of cloud, and stars engulfing it. It was a beautiful sight, but at the same time, leaving the surface meant adventure to be had. It meant boarding the _Enterprise_. A tingle of excitement ran down his spine. On the ground, his life didn't have much meaning. Up here, he felt he could do almost anything.

Uhura flipped the page of the magazine she was reading. "You know, we could have beamed there hours ago."

"And miss the view?" He glanced at the glossy magazine and leaned back in his seat "What is that, _Modern Klingon_? Are you reading an article called _The War Dance That Will Win Him Over_?"

She folded the magazine and pursed her lips. "That's not what it says. Your Klingon is barbaric."

"You're just cranky because your boyfriend couldn't come. Admit it, you're excited to see her too."

"It's a ship, Kirk. Not an old flame."

Her mouth quirked after she spoke and he knew she was excited. Sure, humans belonged on Earth, but he and Uhura, they had places on a starship.

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't treat her like a lady."

Uhura rolled her eyes. "Are you going to 'forget' to call her in the morning?"

"Not this special girl." He ran his fingers over the comm on his belt, thinking of Carol instead of the _Enterprise_. "Thanks for coming with me."

They were both pretending Bones hadn't enlisted her to keep an eye on him. Scotty and Chekov were on ship, but it didn't hurt to have an extra friend available. Uhura distracted him on the shuttle ride, kept him from thinking too hard about what it would be like to be back. Would it be difficult, setting foot inside the ship? There was the old adage about getting back on the horse right away, but part of his punishment had been staying away from all things Starfleet unless the brass wanted him for something.

She met his gaze. "You're welcome. It's something to do while Spock's on New Vulcan. And you're not the only one who gets antsy sitting around waiting for news about the ship's progress. Well, anxious. You're the embodiment of antsy. You haven't stop moving since we got on the shuttle. I swear you're going to burst before we dock."

He smiled wryly. She had a point. They could have beamed aboard the ship, but he remembered the looking at the _Enterprise_ at the shipyard in Iowa the morning he'd signed his life over to Starfleet. He'd been hungover, with his face throbbing from the beating in the bar. Still, the sight of her then had been a powerful motivator. It hardly touched how awe-inspiring seeing the ship for the first time as a cadet had been when she was new and untried. He wanted to relive that moment, or as close as he could get to it.

"There."

He pointed out the window as the _Enterprise_ grew bigger at the shuttle's approach. It was almost painful, looking at her exterior damage. Sheets of metal were missing from the hull, or singed from their abrupt entry into the atmosphere. The panels, which had been so white and glossy when she was new were streaked with scorch marks and space debris. Where she was intact there was hardly a spot on her that didn't have a pock mark or dent.

The _Enterprise_ looked as rough as he felt some mornings. He pressed his fingertips to the cool glass in the window. He'd died inside this vessel, but he'd lived too and no place felt as homey as the captain's chair.

"Jim?"

Uhura's soft voice cut through his thoughts. She leaned around him to look at the ship.

"Yeah?" He managed to tear his gaze away to look at her.

"You don't still think coming back as captain was a mistake, do you?"

He smiled. "Not right now. Maybe I'll moan about it some more when I have reports to fill out."

If the exterior was anything to look at, they were in for a long couple of months.

* * *

"Captain on the bridge."

Jim stepped out of the turbolift, making the announcement to the empty room. Everything was the same as the last time he'd been here-boring-ass white and black with cat vomit orange accents _(who came up with these color schemes?)_, standard Starfleet flair. It looked fresh, clean, and ready for him to take control of the chair and give orders.

In the background, Scotty was rambling about consoles, but he might have been on New Vulcan talking about rugby and team spirit for all the sense he was making. Uhura stood beside Jim, watching him with a mixture of concern and apprehension. He made a show of striding toward his chair and sniffing the air.

"I love that new car scent. How do they do that? You think it's a carpet shampoo they use? Upholstery cleaner, maybe?"

Uhura threw him a look that stated he'd lost his mind. It almost lifted his spirits enough to make him forget the crew members they'd lost because of his decisions. That road led to nowhere.

"_I relieve you, sir."_

"_I am relieved."_

The unexpected memory jolted him out of the chair.

"Sir?" Uhura raised her eyebrows.

"There's nothing to see here I don't see in my sleep." He tried for casual, but he was sweating and Uhura would have to be blind not to notice. "Are we going to get our hands dirty fixing this thing, or stare at the pretty parts the rest of the day? Clock's ticking."

He ignored the look they exchanged.

"We're having a wee bit of difficulty with the transporters in cargo. We've replaced the pads, but something's off yet. If ye'd like tae start there-"

"How's the warp core?"

"I-" Scotty's jaw snapped shut audibly. "Fine. It's dandy, really. Not a blip, glitch, or hiccup."

Jim leveled a stare at the CE.

Scotty cleared his throat. "It's wonky, if ye must know. Cannae get her past warp two in the tests without emergency alarms blaring all over the bloody place. It's been offline for weeks while we've run simulations and replaced parts."

_What did I screw up in there?_ "Let's go see what the problem is."

Scotty looked uncomfortable. "I thought it would keep until Spock gets back from New Vulcan. He already agreed-"

Uhura grabbed Jim's arm. "You're not an engineer."

"I took basic warp design, just like everybody else."

"That hardly qualifies you to take a warp drive apart."

"It's gonna be fine. You worry too much." He winced. _Famous last words._

"There are probably people crawling all over engineering. You can wait until it's empty before you go down there." She gripped his arm tighter. "McCoy said I'd better not let you get worked up-"

"Bones won't do anything to cross Spock, so you don't have to worry about his threats. You can hypo the hell out of me if it looks like I'm going to freak out, okay? I won't even say _ow_. I promise."

His heart was in his throat and the sweat that had started out light was already beading at his hairline. He wondered if the environmental controls were working correctly.

"Hot up here, isn't it?" Scotty asked, tugging at his own shirt collar. "I'll have tae check on that."

Jim raised his eyebrows at Uhura. _See?_

"Completely hopeless," she muttered.

"Sometimes you have to look your demons right in the eye and say, _boo_."

They rode the turbolift down while Jim tried not to think about the last trip he'd made here with Scotty at his side. They stepped out onto a catwalk and he pushed back the memory of running through engineering, out of breath while ship spun crazily as it plummeted.

"You're wheezing," Uhura accused.

"Maybe I'm allergic to your perfume."

"You always breathe loud when you're nervous. It's annoying."

"Your hearing is freakish."

"You-"

Some of the workers turned to stare. Somehow he didn't think it was attributed to his good looks this time.

"Good morning," he greeted with a wave. "Looks like everyone is working hard. I'm pleased with everything I've seen so far. Mr. Scott is giving us a little tour, but we won't be in your hair long. Carry on. "

He smiled, but his legs felt stiff. Had it always been so dark in here? So crowded with machinery that whirled and hummed? The answer was yes, because this was the heart of the ship and without any of this, she didn't go.

There was nothing to fear. It wasn't like the _Enterprise_ wanted to hurt him. No robotic arms were going to grow out of the walls and push him into the warp chamber. Besides, it was offline and harmless. There was no reason he couldn't look at it.

_The spot where my heart stopped, I drew my last breath, I got Spock to admit he's my friend. It's just a place. Neither good nor bad._

The terrible moment of clarity when he knew Marcus was about to fire on them rushed back. The sense of hopelessness and the sudden realization that he could _do_ something, even if it meant risking everything. He'd always heard that your life flashed before your eyes when you were about to die. That hadn't happened, which was a little disappointing because it might be interesting to watch it all in retrospect, but he had plenty of memories and stories to remind himself that James T. Kirk was a hard son of a bitch to keep down.

* * *

"Bridge to Engineering. Is Captain Kirk down there?" Uhura's no-nonsense voice rang over the hum of electricity in the room.

Jim heard Scotty scoff and a wrench hit the metal catwalk near his feet.

"Do dogs howl? Does your boyfriend have pointy ears? Do Klingons wage long violent wars? Do-"

"Scotty, I think she gets it." Jim eased the creeper from beneath the panel where he was working. "Go ahead for Kirk."

"I have a transmission for you from Starfleet, sir. Requesting your presence on the bridge." Uhura sounded the part of the calm communications officer, but there was an underlying urgent note in her voice.

He wasn't dressed for a face-to-face conference. Unshaven, hair a mess, and crap, was it hot enough under than panel? He'd sweated through his shirt in the first five minutes he was under there, tracing wires and checking relays. But for all intents and purposes, his ship was in one piece. Nearly ready for a test drive. He slapped Scotty on the shoulder as he passed, earning a glare and a few choice words.

"I'll be back. Don't forget me while I'm gone."

"Who could bloody well forget? Ye won't leave me alone long enough. Everything is Scotty check this, and Scotty, why's this here and are ye sure we need this and Scotty, I think ye've wired this wrong, so I found a better way. For the love of God, man, I'm nae even sure why ye need me here!"

The rant got a little louder with every step Jim took. He shook his head, trying not to smile. Maybe he was pushing the limit by spending so much time in engineering, but Scotty would forgive him once they were underway on their next mission.

Since the environmental controls were fully functional, he'd been spending as much time as possible on the _Enterprise_. Bones was threatening bad things if he didn't get back to Earth sometime in the near future. Not that it was Bones he cared about. He needed to finish up here anyway if he was going to meet Carol on time for dinner.

When he reached the bridge, he was surprised to see Uhura chatting with Admiral Lenard, whose face filled the view screen. Whatever he'd been about to say died on his lips when he spotted Jim.

"There he is. If you'll excuse us for a few minutes, Lieutenant."

"Of course, sir." She rose from the console and rolled her eyes when she saw Jim. As she closed the space between them, she whispered, "You couldn't have taken a couple of seconds to wash up?"

"You didn't tell me it was important," he whispered back.

"I thought you'd know by all the _Captains_ and _sirs_ I was throwing around-never mind. Just play nice, okay?" She smiled, indicating he should do the same.

In return, he gave her a big grin. _Points for smothering that groan of frustration, Uhura._

He faced the view screen again, all business. "Admiral Lenard. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I've been reading the reports your engineering team sent this morning. As I understand it, the ship is nearly 100% repaired. A few minor systems checks and some cosmetic work and she'll be good as new, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Scott is predicting she'll be ready for a trial run this week. Everyone working on the _Enterprise_ has performed admirably. And they finished almost two months quicker than projected."

A craft like this didn't belong in the space dock. It needed to be out among the stars and he knew he wasn't the only one raring to go.

"That's good news," Lenard said, almost to himself. "I understand you haven't been back on solid ground for a couple of weeks. Any particular reason?"

"No, sir. Just helping out where I can." He scratched his chin, annoyed when his hand came away with a smear of black grease on it. Where had that come from? "I hope Mr. Scott hasn't been telling you I'm in the way."

If the amount of swear words stemming from Scotty's mouth at any given point in the day was an indication, he was ready to skin Jim alive. When he declared something fixed, Jim went over it again, looking for flaws, double-checking schematics and simulations for any dire situations he could come up with. Maybe he couldn't make the _Enterprise_ indestructible, but he damn well meant to get as close as he could.

"There have been a few side comments about your fastidious search for problems, but nothing overly concerning." Lenard looked weary.

A few clearly meant _a lot_. It was a well-known fact that Scotty was on the admiralty's shit list, so naturally they didn't take his grumbling seriously.

Jim grinned. "I'm actually headed back to Earth in a couple of hours, sir. I think you might hear a relieved sigh echo across the distance."

_Lenard's probably thrilled Scotty and I haven't set something on fire, getting on each other's nerves up here._

"I'm glad to hear it. I hate to tear you away from the work, but we're calling a meeting tomorrow at 0800 hours with all available captains. That means you too. No excuses."

He swallowed the knot in his throat. "Sir?"

"Be on time, in uniform, and presentable. That's all, Captain. Lenard out."

The view screen went black.


	9. Chapter 9

_This is the shortest chapter so far, but you guys were saying you liked the Jim/Carol pairing, so I wanted to do something with them. And, you know, be mean by leaving you hanging about that meeting. Teehee. And poor Jim. He does not trust the system. Who can blame him?_

* * *

Carol plucked pieces of General Tso's chicken from a cardboard container with a pair of chopsticks and dropped them on the bed of rice on the plate she'd set in front of Jim. She returned her gaze to him, not bothering to hide her concern.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He nudged a piece of chicken with his own chopsticks. Since Lenard's cryptic order that he show up at Starfleet headquarters tomorrow, he hadn't felt like eating. He'd considered canceling dinner with Carol, but Uhura told him to stop being a baby and use the opportunity to relax. There wasn't any sense in wasting energy worrying about it, but it weighed on his mind. Now that he was back in Carol's kitchen, he was glad he'd come.

"There's not much to say. Be there, dress uniform, and don't be a millisecond late. He didn't give me any useful information. Typical."

She smiled, although it didn't do much to ease the worry on her face. "I choose to believe it's good news."

"Maybe they're going to ask me to fill in as an admiral. I could be the youngest one in history."

"Don't get a big head," she scolded. "You'll be an admiral, but not for a few years yet. Let's talk five year missions first."

She rounded the counter, carrying her plate and headed for the living room. Jim watched the sway of her hips, until she settled on the couch, and looked over the back as though asking if he was going to follow. He couldn't resist.

"Giving me a five year mission would be too much of a reward." He'd thought about it. Looking at his commendations and his record for Starfleet prior to Nibiru, they'd stood a chance at getting a long mission. With the amount of scrutiny his crew was under, their chances of being off planet for long were slim. "It can't look like the admiralty are showing favoritism after we failed to contain Khan. We'll be lucky if we get sent to patrol a planet where the highest lifeforms are amoebas."

"The admiralty isn't against you." She nibbled a piece of chicken. "No matter what the public thinks, they'll show support for their officers. If my father was correct, we could be facing war with the Klingons. We have to appear united."

"There's a big difference in pretending to stand together and actually doing it."

A hard lesson, one he wasn't likely to forget.

"You disagree with the way Starfleet is handling the situation?" She leaned over and stole a piece of chicken from his plate.

The conversation turned his stomach. "I'd be fine with them if it wasn't for Section 31. Those guys are shifty. I don't like stumbling on their little science projects and endangering my crew because they let a maniac loose on accident. If they're warming up three hundred-year-old super humans, what else are they doing behind closed doors?"

He watched her eat, amazed at her appetite. It was like they were having a conversation about their favorite colors instead of internal affairs.

"What?" she asked.

"We're possibly on the brink of war, maybe facing the worst assignments in the universe, and you're carrying on like someone's going to steal that chicken if you don't eat it right now."

"Suppose we wake up tomorrow and there's no more General Tso's left anywhere? We're attacked by an alien race who absorbs all knowledge of it and all we have left are..." She waved her chopsticks. "Dodgy frozen pizzas instead. You know, the kind with the cheese that doesn't melt."

"Oh, no. Whatever will we do?" He laughed. "Ah, I hate that stuff. That's not food. It's not even made from a dairy product, but that doesn't explain eating almost a whole container of chicken."

"There's still half a container in the kitchen," she protested. "No regrets, Jim. Aliens aside, I want to live life to the fullest. I joined Starfleet to make a difference. Well, and see my father, of course, but I thought I might help change the world someday."

"You have." He set his plate aside and took hers.

"I was eating that," she said playfully.

"In a minute. I just want to..." He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Enjoy this moment. I missed you while I was up there."

She made a soft noise of disbelief. "You didn't have time to think of me while you were working. I've talked to Nyota. She said you run the poor repairmen ragged, day and night."

"Hmm, must be because we couldn't get General Tso's up there."

Carol laid her hand against his jaw. "I'll admit I missed you too. It's a bit boring down here without you."

"Next time I go up, you'll be with me. It'll be just like old times, except with fewer people trying to kill us."

"I think I'd prefer it that way." She looked away, face serious. "I don't understand how you can brush it aside so easily. Under threat, calm in the face of danger, and seconds away from whatever comes after this life. I don't think I'd ever be suitable for a command position. I could never make the kinds of choices you have."

He shook his head. "That's the funny thing about bravery. You don't really have it until you need it. It's dormant, waiting to come out until the very last second when it's do or die."

"You're saying everyone's born with it? It manifests in moments of crisis?" She sounded doubtful.

He was surprised that she didn't believe she was brave. "You disarmed a missile with seconds to go and refused to be beamed back up to the ship. Bones would've died if not for your quick thinking."

"I suppose." She sighed. "It didn't feel brave, only necessary."

"I've thought that a couple of times myself."

She laid her head on his shoulder. "I wish I'd been brave enough to report my father. I knew he was up to no good even though I didn't know what he was doing. If I had it to do all over again, I could prevent so much damage and sadness."

_Could you?_ Marcus's plan had been in actions years before Carol suspected anything. The reminder only served to double Jim's worry that Section 31 was eyeballs deep in secrecy behind closed doors. God, he couldn't wait to get back to the _Enterprise_ and let someone else worry about that.

If tomorrow's meeting went well, maybe they'd be able to leave this behind for a little while anyway. Tonight, though, he wanted to bask in the glow of good company. Playing captain could wait for tomorrow.


	10. Chapter 10

_You guys ready? It's meeting time. Oooo. *Insert suspenseful music here*_

Temporary Starfleet headquarters hadn't changed much since the last time Jim had been inside last time. He clutched his hat, attempting to smooth his hair down as he strode through the halls, striving for his cocky I-am-captain-obey-my-orders walk.

There seemed to be a lot of visitors bustling around, wearing name badges he couldn't quite make out. A few of them made eye contact with him, although he walked faster and tugged his hat down, hoping no one would delay him on his way to the conference room. He hadn't exactly promised to be on time, but today, he didn't plan to disobey any orders.

"Kirk!"

He stopped when he heard his name and grimaced, praying no one else had.

Matt Decker, captain of the _U.S.S. Constellation_, half-jogged along to catch up with him.

"There's a face I never thought I'd see at Starfleet again." Decker extended his hand and grinned.

It would be poor manners to ignore him, although Jim wanted to. _Thought you'd get your hands on the _Enterprise_ one of these days, didn't you, you sneaky bastard. Over my dead body._

No one but him found the joke funny, so he didn't use it often. Jim smiled. "Good to see you. How's life aboard the _Constellation_?"

"Peachy. We're on a month's leave, then it's off to L-374. Any idea where the _Enterprise_ is headed next?" There was a gleam of jealousy in Decker's eyes.

"Not yet. I'm hoping to hear something today. Have you heard what this meeting is about? Lenard caught me yesterday and demanded I show up."

"Nope. I'm as clueless as you. I planned to spend my shore leave visiting my parents in sunny Florida. Meetings weren't part of the plan, but when the brass calls, you just don't say no."

Jim watched Decker's face for any hint of a lie. The other man had one thing right: He was clueless-about more than this meeting. He knew Decker's jibe about the brass was meant to irritate him, and it worked, but he hid it with a smile.

"Guess we'll have to go inside and find out what's happening."

"I'm guessing it's something huge. Did you see all the media vans outside? They're probably planning a live announcement."

Jim's heart skipped a beat. "Those are reporters?"

Decker's face was a priceless expression of confusion, but Jim was too disturbed to laugh.

"Yeah, how'd you miss the cameras?"

"I was trying to be discreet."

Decker slapped his back, apparently unconcerned with the media's presence. "You? That's got to be a first. You're about as subtle as a boil on Admiral Barnett's ass."

Not for the first time, Jim thought about knocking the shit out of Decker.

"I'm trying something different these days." He tilted his head, letting the brim of his hat shade his face when he saw a woman with a microphone headed their way. "You can stay here if you want, but I think I'll grab a seat inside."

"You're right. Probably better get a move on. We don't want to be late."

The conference room was bigger than the private meeting room where the admirals had decided his fate. There were a lot more chairs, arranged auditorium-style and the second Jim stepped through the doorway, he felt the stares of the admirals and captains gathered at the front of the room.

He removed his hat and nodded at Barnett and Nogura. Nogura had been at his hearing too, and while they didn't see eye-to-eye, at least he could claim Nogura was an old family friend from his dad's academy days.

Lenard gave him a quick once-over, but didn't look particularly pleased to see him. Jim got a curt nod before Barnett gestured for him and Decker to join them. They'd set up a long table at the front, nothing like the round one they'd sat at when they discussed the fugitive then known as John Harrison. There were four other captains besides Jim and Decker, all of varying ages, and none of them looked happy to be here either.

The admirals, Lenard, Barnett, Nogura, Lui, and Chandra, stood together like a stone wall, whispering and shuffling papers around.

_Why invite us if this is a private conversation?_ Pretending to be bored, Jim picked invisible lint from his hat while watching them from the corner of his eye. Lui instructed Decker to shut the door and Jim tensed, waiting for whatever was coming next. At least it didn't look like a firing squad.

Barnett cleared his throat. "Glad you all could make it. Today's important for the sake of our future officers, for our current enlisted, and to the civilian public."

Jim willed himself to relax.

"You must have noticed the media in the lobby. They'll be joining us shortly, because we want all the United Federation of Planets to know our plans for the next several stages. We have an agenda here for you and we'll follow it strictly to the letter so this doesn't turn into a circus." He looked pointedly at Jim while a young woman, clearly one of the admiral's assistants, handed out the agendas. "The media are sharp-toothed hounds waiting to take a bite out of us and get a story. There will be no questions about the incident involving Admiral Alexander Marcus or Khan Noonien Singh. No questions about the dreadnaught class ship that struck San Francisco, or the intentions of Captain Kirk. This will be short, to the point, and it's all good news. So smile, people. We want to look good on camera. We want Starfleet to look good."

Nine sets of eyes were glued on Jim. Barnett was looking over his agenda again. Jim swallowed and pretended to be engrossed in the contents.

It listed the topics Barnett intended to lead with, including the situation with Klingon, assurances about the solid alliances they'd formed with other Federation planets, the re-dedication of the _Enterprise_. That, if nothing else, explained what he was doing here. Unfortunately, the agenda didn't say what their intentions for the ship were. He'd have to wait to find out, just like everyone else. The last item listed was a Q and A session with the press.

The assistant handed out another sheet and Jim took it without hesitation. Barnett tapped the table in front of him.

"This is your answer sheet to the pre-selected questions. Everyone here gets to answer at least one." Barnett made it sound like he was doing them a favor. "The reporter will stand, direct a question to you, you'll answer, smile, and we'll all be home before we know it."

Surprised, Jim searched until he found his name. The question was about extension training courses for upper-classmen cadets, complete with bullshit answer explaining what a great opportunity it was for students to experience other cultures and customs. _Gee, I can't believe they didn't add a cue on when to smile while I spout crap this off._

He'd probably gotten that one because he was more recently out of the academy than any of the other captains. The pitfalls of being the youngest in a group.

He read over the other questions, bristling when he saw they had to do with diplomacy and a couple that covered the truth with nice little lies about the shaky truce the Federation shared with the Klingons at the Neutral Zone. Before he could speak up and call the admirals on the lies, Barnett went to the door and stepped into the hall.

A sinking feeling pummeled his stomach. He was right. The brass wanted to pull the wool over the people's eyes, let them think that everything was hunky-dory.

"Let's all take a seat," Nogura suggested.

"What is this?" Jim asked, sitting next to Decker.

Decker shrugged. "Public relations. These reporters will eat it up."

_Not if they have half a brain in their heads._

The assistant hurried around the table, placing little name plates in front of each person. Jim hit the underside of the table with his knee and watched the placards topple over. The assistant glared at him. He gave shrug and a beaming smile.

_I'm so clumsy. Just a big, dumb bootlicker who says whatever Admiral Barnett tells him to say._

He watched the reporters file in and find their assigned seats. There was a lot of talking and laughing, even some swearing while cameras were adjusted and focused.

"If you're ready, we can begin now." Barnett didn't make it sound like he cared if they were ready or not. "On behalf of Starfleet and the Federation, I'm please you all could make it today. We have a couple of announcements and then we'll take pre-selected questions. In order to make this quick and not keep you from any other major stories happening today, we'll stick to the schedule. We won't be taking any additional questions."

Barnett rambled on about Klingons, a new planet they'd added to the Federation, and Jim struggled to read between the lines, listening for the untruths Barnett was covering up. It sounded kind patronizing, but he didn't hear anything he didn't believe.

"If we remain united in our cause, in our dedication to make the Federation a brighter place for all people, we'll never fail. No power in the universe can bring us down." Barnett's face was red, a sure sign of his conviction.

Jim wanted to gag. _Please, please, please just put me on that ship and let me go. Take care of your politics while I'm light years away._

"Our final topic for the day is the re-christening of the _U.S.S. Enterprise_. We're pleased to announce she'll undergo a test run early next week. If we like what we see, then our flagship, under the command of Captain James T. Kirk, will spend the next five years exploring deep space." Barnett smiled at him, a tooth grin that almost looked vicious.

Jim's heart was in his throat. He heard cameras clicking and a murmur go through the crowd, but the blood rushing through his head was the loudest sound in the room. He shook off his surprise and smiled at Barnett, then the reporters. He gave them the smile that had won countless hearts, and hoped like hell Carol was watching. It was all for her and the rest of the crew.

_Carol _was_ right! _He fought the urge to jump up and dance on the table, then cartwheel out of the room. Or maybe handsprings would be more dignified. No, better to sit still and wait for this hot mess of a press conference to end. Even his stupid question didn't seem so bad now.

He barely noticed when they started the Q and A. In his mind, he was already back aboard the _Enterprise_, running at warp, and watching the universe pass by from his chair.

"Captain Kirk."

Jim looked up, making eye contact with the reporter who'd called his name. He smiled, trying to appear interested.

"My question is: How well do you think extension classes serve Starfleet students?" The reporter paused and then an expression that reminded Jim of a merciless Romulan transformed the other man's face. "But I think the public would rather know: With you in control of the _Enterprise_, how soon can we expect you to bring us into total war? Your admirals are insisting everything is fine and dandy, but we can all smell the stink coming off that lie."

Some of the other reporters laughed, but no one at the Starfleet table looked amused. Barnett stood, putting out his hand to stop Jim from speaking.

"You've just lost your press privileges for Starfleet conferences, Mr. Oliver." He motioned for the security guards posted at the door.

They moved forward without hesitation.

"Wait a minute." Jim pushed his chair back and rose.

"Kirk," Barnett barked. "Sit. Down."

"I'd like to answer that question, if you don't mind, sir." Jim smiled, even though his heart was beating rapidly. "It's a lot more interesting than the one you gave me."

Barnett's face went red, but he sat down.

"Oliver, right?" Jim met the reporter's stare. _Nothing to lose._ "You're the one who likes writing articles about me. I've read them all. Fascinating stuff. You seem to know things about me I never guessed myself. Funny thing, how my plan worked out here. Save Earth from rogue Romulans, earn the captaincy on Starfleet's flagship, use it to haul a bunch of nuclear weapons through the Neutral Zone, and bring back a fugitive. Then piss off a high ranking admiral, and...oh, yeah. He enabled a maniac to shoot our ship down. I'll admit, the nuclear weapons were pushing the limits. A good friend told me not to do it, but I wasn't thinking clearly. Then Khan wrecked our city. All of us were affected. It hurt then and it's slow to heal. Let me make one thing clear." He drew in a breath. "Starfleet doesn't specialize in military operations. That's why I won't be bringing the Klingon empire-or any force we consider an enemy-down on us. My crew and myself are explorers, observers, men and women with an insatiable curiosity about other worlds and lifeforms. We defend ourselves when we have to, but we don't seek to destroy. I hope that answers your question, Mr. Oliver."

He risked a glance at Barnett, who looked furious, but Jim had the feeling no one was going to revoke his mission right on heels of announcing it, and not with him defending Starfleet's creed.

As he sat down again, he smiled. Jim Kirk, poster child for Starfleet. He felt sure Pike would be proud.


	11. Chapter 11

_Ah, I'm so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter. I was a tad worried about it. When I worked on it last weekend, I wasn't satisfied with the end, so the way it ended happened kind of fast. Whew. Glad that part's over. Now...how 'bout an antsy Vulcan for your pleasure?_

* * *

Jim let himself into the apartment and tossed his hat on the couch. Dazed, but humming with excitement, he slipped into his bedroom, dropping his dress uniform in pieces as he went. He changed into plain clothes and stood in front of his mirror, watching his reflection. The second he'd left headquarters, he'd turned his comm off, knowing it would ring for hours on end. Right now, he wanted time to process what had happened.

The man staring back at him looked tired from another sleepless night, but there was something in his eyes that sparkled. A look he'd inherited from his father, the one he'd seen countless times as he studied photographs of the legendary George Kirk.

God, it was good to know what the future held.

He thought of Pike and wondered if someway, somehow, Pike was arguing on his behalf from the Great Beyond.

Jim braced one arm against the wall. Five years in space. Exploring the unknown. A relieved laugh rushed out of his throat. The look on Decker's face had been priceless when Barnett made the announcement. He hoped it was caught on film so he could watch the conference later. Of course, the admirals had probably selected him to captain the mission simply to get him out of their hair for a while. That didn't bother him in the least.

He left the bathroom and made up his mind to turn the comm on again. Who to call first? Carol, because he wanted to tell her she was right, or Bones, because he'd hate the news, or Spock, because his XO deserved to hear it first hand.

He stared out the balcony door, tossing the comm back and forth between his hands. A prickly sensation crept up his spine. _Someone's in the apartment._ He spun, almost dropping the comm.

"Goddammit, Spock. You're like some kind of freakin' ninja." Jim pressed a hand against his chest, his heart racing. "Sneaking up on people isn't funny."

Spock tilted his head. "I neither possess the skills to become a ninja, although my combat techniques are effective to subdue most attackers, nor was I attempting to be funny."

"What are you doing here? I was just about to call." He dropped onto the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. "Sit down. Did you see the news?"

"Your comm has been turned off since early this morning. When you didn't answer, I thought it might be necessary to check on you." Spock eyed his feet with something akin to disdain and sat stiffly in a chair catty-corner from the couch. "I was made aware of the live announcement only moments before it aired, however, I was able to watch the entire conference."

"Aww, you were worried about me, weren't you?"

A slight twitch lifted the corners of Spock's mouth. "There was a small time frame in which you looked utterly perplexed by the announcement."

"I thought I might have heard wrong, but I when everyone started staring, I knew I hadn't."

Spock nodded. "If I have permission to speak freely, I will first congratulation you, and then say the odds of the _Enterprise_ and her crew undertaking a five year mission were highly unlikely given our record."

Jim rolled his eyes. "But you didn't want to tell me that. It might put me in a state of distress or something, right? Is that why you went to Vulcan? So I wouldn't see the horrible truth-or what you thought was the truth-in your eyes?"

"It's impossible to see truth in another person's eyes. They do not have the capabilities to reflect such emotion. On one's face, yes, but not..."

His words died at Jim's glare.

"As I was saying, I offer my congratulations."

"And you, Commander. Too bad we don't have champagne. Can you believe it? We're going into deep space." He tilted his head back against the couch cushions. He let his mind wander to new terrains, to unknown people, to stars uncaptured by their telescopes. Then he realized Spock hadn't said anything for several minutes. "You're not happy about this."

Spock's gaze was on the window. "I have expressed no negative emotion toward the venture."

"But..."

"I question the weight of this assignment. The _Enterprise_ was badly damaged. We lost crew members. We lost...our captain. I believe the admiralty may be rushing us into this. There are many other available ships and crews more suitable for the task."

Jim sat up, staring at Spock. "Have you been talking to Bones? About that _space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence_ stuff? That's all in his head, you know."

"I haven't been in communication with Dr. McCoy more than five times since returning to Earth. None of our conversations turned toward his phobias about space. I'm merely expressing my opinion on the matter."

Spock didn't fidget, but his blank expression was a little too calm. Jim let out a breath.

"There's nothing to worry about. Our ship is repaired, there are..." He swallowed, wincing at the memory of the crew they'd lost. "Replacements-good ones-for the crew we lost, and your captain isn't going anywhere. I promise. But thanks for confiding in me. Your concerns are noted."

He suddenly understood he was the last person Spock had come to with this problem. The others had probably been talking behind his back for weeks, just like they had during the Great Couch Meltdown of 2259.

"I can handle this. We both know it. Listen, I get that you're worried. I am too, it just hasn't sank in enough yet. Right now, this second, it's a dream come true. Don't think about what might happen, all the danger we'll be facing-there will be danger, Spock, that's life on the frontier-just think about the discoveries we'll make. The people we'll meet, the history we'll witness. It's going to be amazing."

"Your enthusiasm is expected, Jim, but it doesn't ease my concerns."

"The test run on the _Enterprise_ will. Everyone in their places, you reading a console and doing science officer things. It'll be just like it was before, except better." He grinned, sure his vague reference to Spock's job would break the Vulcan's worry.

"By _before_, I assume you mean a series of hair-raising antics and moments of tension that would cause the most even-tempered person serious distress. I'm not sure how that is meant to be comforting." Spock tapped his fingers on the chair arm.

"Boy, you _are_ wound up." Jim relaxed against the couch again. "Look, I couldn't tell Barnett no and even if I wanted to-which I absolutely, one hundred and ten million percent _didn't_ want to-it would've been rude."

The look on Spock's face clearly read, _since when do you care about rudeness?_

"There's no telling the admirals no. How stupid would I have looked if I turned this assignment down? Stupid, and like a chicken shit. I'm not a chicken shit." A statement that was arguable, because instead of helping while the good people of San Francisco repaired their damaged city, he'd sat on his ass, terrified to leave the apartment lest someone accuse him of starting shit with frozen men and Klingons and within Starfleet's ranks. "They'd have given it to Decker, Spock. You know I hate that bastard. He's so by-the-book, if he ever got in a really hairy situation, he wouldn't know what to do."

"Captain Decker has logged more hours in a command position."

Jim leaned forward, glaring. "Say that again."

"Captain Decker has logged-"

"I will hit you if you finish that sentence, I swear. Look at me and listen. We're going on a five year mission into uncharted territory. We're going to have fun. We're not going to blow the ship up, start any wars, or die in any one of a thousand terrible ways."

Spock settled back in the chair and seemed to give up. "There are times when I almost trust your judgment. And there are times when you are, as Dr. McCoy would say, _full of malarkey_."

Jim laughed. "Yeah, he's got a ton of those colloquialisms that apply to me, but let me know which it is when we're safe at home again at the end of the mission."

"You truly feel up to this?"

He thought about it for a second. "I do. I'm comfortable on the _Enterprise_, even if I don't have as much time as Decker in the chair."

"Very well." Spock stared at him for a moment. "Your choice of words after the reporter's question were admirable."

"You liked that, huh? Barnett was going on and on about all that sticking together bullshit. I thought he was going to explode when I said I'd answer the question. I'll bet it tore him up inside when I started admitting I made mistakes. He probably thought I'd throw some blame on Starfleet."

"It was a bold move to admit your fault."

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

The lines around Spock's eyes softened a fraction. "In truth, I find it refreshing. So many are quick to point the blame elsewhere."

"It's easy to do. No one wants to look bad, but why deny I did any of those things? I figure take my lickings now and hope the good I've done can outshine the bad. It wasn't easy, but it was necessary." If anyone could understand that, he figured it was Spock.

Spock's comm chimed. He pulled it out and looked at it. "I believe it's for you."

Jim took it and looked at the ID display. Bones, likely ready to give him an earful. He flipped the comm open and held it at arms' length.

"_Goddammit, five years in space? What are you thinking, you moron!"_

Jim grinned. "The person you have attempted to communicated with is unavailable. Please check the number and try again."

"Don't you dare hang up on me. I know that's you, Jim! When I get home, I'm going to hypo you into a permanent coma for the safety of the entire damned universe. Those admirals are idiots! They all need their heads examined, dammit. This isn't funny-"

Jim snapped the comm shut. "Guess he's not happy. Say, do you think Uhura would mind if I crashed on your couch tonight?"


	12. Chapter 12

_I know. I'm mean, leaving you guys hanging. I put a lot of thought into where I was going with this story since the last chapter. So here it is: Jim's first official time back in the captain's seat since his world more or less blew up in his face._

* * *

"_This is a mock run, Kirk. You're going to take the Enterprise out to New Vulcan, nice and slow, test out that redesigned warp core, and bring her back. I don't want any word of you or your crew taking her past that point. I don't want to hear about pirates, distress signals, malfunctions. I don't want to hear about so much as a paper cut that happens on that ship. Do you understand?"_

Admiral Barnett's words rang in Jim's ears. He wondered if any of the admirals had ever had anything close to fun, or if they'd forgotten the thrill of doing more than sitting behind desks and handling Starfleet bureaucracy bullshit. God spare him from ever doing that.

Of course, he didn't have any choice but to acquiesce to Barnett's rules. Not if he wanted to get the hell off the planet for a while. A smile curved his lips. A good _long_ while.

"Would you care to enlighten me on the joke, Captain?" Spock asked.

"No joke. Just glad to be back on the ship."

"Although this is a mere test, I too am raring for the chance to stretch her legs in space."

"Spock? You're _raring_?" Jim stopped in his tracks. "Are you sick?"

Then he smiled. The pointy-eared bastard didn't quite manage a grin, but he was close. "It has been far too long since we gathered on the ship as a full crew. This is an occasion for emotions that reflect happiness, excitement, and joy, wouldn't you say?"

Jim shook his head. "You know, you're a little frightening when you smile."

They stepped into the turbolift, riding it down to engineering. It stopped once and a trio of new recruits in red shirts joined them. After snapping to attention and saluting, they looked at one another nervously until Jim smiled.

"Welcome aboard. I hope you're all making yourselves comfortable inside our girl here." Jim patted the turbolift wall and winked at the recruit in the middle. She was a pretty brunette, clearly on her way down to rendezvous with Scotty.

"I think I'm going to like it here, Captain." She looked away, watching the lights on the panel flash as they sank deeper into the ship.

Spock sighed, the noise loud in the nervous silence. The door opened and Jim let the new crew out first. He heard Scotty yelling over the hum of machinery. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw them.

He stalked over, PADD in and waving wildly. "Bloody hell, who hired these-these children? Who put them in uniforms and told them tae come aboard our ship?"

"I believe you had a hand in that, Mr. Scott," Spock said, his face deadpan, all traces of his earlier humor vanished.

"Aye, well, I thought I got the cream of the crop, but it's more like babysitting than supervising adults who have schooling to back up their impressive resumes." He glared over his shoulder. "Oi! Keenser! Get down from there, now!"

He sighed. "Remind me why I came back tae this madhouse?"

Frustration was to be expected when the ship hadn't left the space dock in months. Jim slapped Scotty's shoulder. "Because you love it. Same as the rest of us. New recruits and miscreant climbers aside, we're ready to roll, aren't we?"

"Aye. Ready as she'll ever be, Jim." Scotty wiped his brow. Behind him, something slammed and someone swore. Scotty groaned. "I reckon that means we're headed tae med bay. An hour before launch. For the love of... What are the pair of ye doin' down here anyway?"

The young red shirt slinked across the catwalk, clutching his hand, which already looked swollen.

"Good God, man. Have ye no sense? Slammin' yer hand in a panel on a day like today?" Scotty waved his PADD again. "I donnae have time for this."

"We'll take him," Jim said. "We're taking one more tour of the ship before we're released. Engineering looks good. Med bay's our next stop."

"Thank you, Captain," the petty officer muttered. "It's just a bruise, Mr. Scott. I'll be back before you know it."

"Get out of here. Go with the captain and commander. Don't come back till ye're sure ye can keep track of yer fingers down here." Scotty jabbed his PADD in the direction of the turbo lift. "A moment more of yer time, Captain."

"Sure. Take Petty Officer Todd to med bay, Mr. Spock. I'll be right behind you." He waited until they boarded the turbolift. "You're sure everything's fine? Maybe you need a minute away from the _Enterprise's_ guts to breathe."

"That's nae the problem. Or, I should say, it's nae a problem at all."

Relief eased some of Jim's tension. "Okay."

"I just wanted tae say thank ye for letting me back on the ship. We parted with some harsh words last time you left Earth and I wouldnae repeat that for anything. Ye're my friend, Jim."

Touched, Jim had to look away. He cleared his throat. "Thanks, Scotty. That means a lot. Your friendship is important to me. Your support over the winter was a big help."

"Handshake?" Scotty asked. "Lest any of these daft bastards think we're unmanly."

Jim laughed and extended his hand. "Can't them saying their officers are going soft."

He left engineering with his heart lighter than it had been the moment he set foot on the Enterprise this morning. Damn, his crew was something.

Med bay was quiet, orderly, and smelled faintly of cleaning chemicals. One of the nurses tended Petty Officer Todd's smashed finger while Spock watched with mild interest. Bones was nowhere in sight.

"Bonesy! You locked in the restroom again?" He grinned at the nurses who looked his way. "I saved my favorite person for last on my walk-through."

"Dammit, Jim, this is a medical bay, not a preschool nursery. It's supposed to be quiet." Bones threw open the lab door. "Just because you're the captain does not mean you can run around yelling for me if it's not an emergency."

Jim fought a grin, striving for a professional tone. "Sorry, Dr. McCoy. Commander Spock and I are doing a final walk-through of the ship. I assume everything here is under control and up to Starfleet standards. Just in case we run afoul of a dangerous situation."

"Go kiss a Gorn, _Captain_." Bones glared. "You _are_ a dangerous situation."

"Can't argue that."

Bones tipped his head, listening to Petty Officer Todd talk tell the nurse about his injury.

"Then the captain came into engineering and when I saw him, I forgot I was holding the panel open. It just slipped and smashed my finger."

"Ugh. You're all anyone on this ship talks about. We'll be treating strained necks for days because those impressionable new crew members who don't know what a pain in the ass you are have hero worship." Bones rubbed his forehead. "Perfect."

"What can I say? I'm admirable." He turned his palms up and smiled, but behind the smile he felt like crap. Didn't those people know he could get them killed just as easily as their predecessors? They were _replacements_, for crying out loud.

Just like him.

"Are you gonna get out of my med bay and go do something captain-y, or are you gonna stand there all day? Someone might have an actual emergency instead of being an annoying pest."

"Right. Lookin' good in here, Bones. Keep it up." He tugged at the collar of his gold shirt. "You want to join us on the bridge for the launch?"

"Jim?"

"Yeah?" He forced a smile.

Bones leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You okay, kid?"

"They'll figure it out." He nodded at Todd. "It might take a while, but they'll get it."

"Get what?" Bones narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"That I'm just as human and fallible as the rest of them. Give them a couple of weeks on the ship. Can you tolerate new recruit injuries that long?"

Bones balled his fists. "Jesus, man. I was joking. Don't start that pity party shit again. I don't think any of us can take another round."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm not. I was thinking about the last dressing down I got from Pike. He was right. I thought it didn't matter how stupid I acted. If my actions put people in danger, because I could get them out again. No harm, no foul. I just don't want anyone on this ship putting me on a pedestal. They all looked so professional during the interviews. Now they turned into starry-eyed puppies?"

Bones shook his head. "Don't worry. I'm here with the sledgehammer to turn your pedestal into little plaster chunks anytime you want. Me or any of the bridge crew. You got that?"

"Thanks, Bones. I'll keep that in mind. Gotta run. We have bridge officer stuff to do." The weight lifted off his chest. "Spock, let's go. Take care of that finger, Petty Officer."

Todd nodded at him and grin. Jim smiled in return.

"Hey, Jim. I'll be up for launch."

Bones didn't look happy, but it was gesture of friendship Jim appreciated as much as Scotty's words.

"See you then."

"Shall we return to the bridge, Captain?" Spock asked.

"Actually, I was thinking we could kick back for fifteen, have a cup of coffee-tea, in your case-just savor the mess hall for a while."

Spock gave him a puzzled look. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, we have plenty of time before the launch. Actually, I have a better idea. Let's go push all the buttons in the turbolift, make the newbies stop on every floor. Or lock a few of them in it and let them ride up and down for a while. Take some of the tension out of the air, huh, Spock."

"I'm not sure that the best way to impress upon our crew that you're the captain they wish to follow into space on a mission such as the one we're about to undertake."

"We'll weed out the weak, make sure they can handle deep space. It'll be fun."

Spock sighed, but he didn't protest or offer any reason why that would be illogical.

* * *

"Keptin on the bridge."

Chekov's cheerful announcement ensured the entire bridge crew looked away from their tasks to greet Jim.

"At ease. Or at least, stop staring. You guys have work to do." He approached the chair, wishing this was another of those times when Pike was there to see him off. Wishing that nothing had changed. On the edge of his excitement, that fragile scrap of grief clung with sharp claws, waving its dark tail, waiting to be noticed. He didn't have time for that. There was a mock voyage to complete.

Scotty's voice came over the intercom. "Warp core online. The ship's yers, Captain."

"Very good. Thank you, Mr. Scott. Mr. Sulu?"

"Aye, Captain."

Jim settled into the leather chair. It was comfortable, ergonomic, and designed for long periods of sitting. He'd done some of his quickest thinking here. Some of his deepest. That was probably why he'd spent so much time on the leather couch in the apartment. Similar scents, but different worlds.

He scanned the bridge, turning the chair so he could take in the crew. One good test run, that's all they needed. A few more weeks, a tweak here and there, and they'd be exploring again. The turbolift door slid open and Bones stepped out, folding his arms over his blue shirt, making his grumpy doctor face.

"Now it's a party." Jim nodded at his friend. "Mr. Sulu, take us out."

* * *

_And they all lived happily ever after. Erm, well, you know what I mean. Okay, wrapping her up before the closing scenes of the movie. I hope you all enjoyed the ride. Writing fanfic is pretty much new to me and using someone else's characters was a challenge, but definitely worth every follow, favorite, and review. You guys are awesome and your great comments kept me writing this. Have a huge pat on the back, a super fluffy puppy, kitten, bunny, or chick, and an all-you-can-eat ice cream buffet as your reward._


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